You Again
by hoshiakari7
Summary: Draco Malfoy runs into Hermione Granger several years after the war and ends up working for her in the Ministry of Magic. Sparks fly, but with Hermione still dating Ronald Weasley, will it lead anywhere? Will they give in to their feelings or are some old prejudices just too difficult to overcome?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello everybody! I'm publishing this on a whim, mostly because it's taken up space on my 'doc manager' tab for far too long. I'd written this not long after I finished my 'Panem's Golden Boy' fic (I might have even started writing it while writing the last chapters... but I digress) so it's definitely been a while since I'd written it (although I have edited it a couple of times ever since). So please forgive if the writing is lacking, I'm still human after all.

The chapters in this fic aren't long (no more than 3k words) so if you find yourself enjoying this first chapter, do let me know how many times a week I should update. I'm leaning towards three... but that decision is in your hands now. I have most of the fic written although I am missing a couple of chapters in the middle. I have yet to write the end, though, but I do know how I want it to end.

This is my first foray into the Dramione fandom and without further ado... I hope you enjoy.

**ETA: As of 7/23/16, this fic will be undergoing some editing. Just small details for the most part. Though there are some parts that will undoubtedly make me cringe but I'll try not to go too overboard. It's mostly thanks to the last guest review I got. Bless you, guest. Big thanks to everyone who has continued to review and add my story to their favorites. :) **

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Draco Malfoy looked up at the dreary sky, noticing how the puffy white clouds from earlier had been replaced by fat and gray ones. Also, was it him or was there a certain chill in the air?

_Not good… this is a brand new, extremely expensive coat and I won't stand to have a few raindrops ruin it._

Thus, he ducked into Flourish and Blott's and shifted the parcel that he carried in his hands, tucking it securely under his arm.

The little bell atop the door tinkled, prompting the people near the entrance to turn to look his way. They stared with wide eyes, quickly leaning to their companions in whispered tones as Draco strode into the bookstore, smiling uneasily at nobody in particular.

_Yes… it's me, Draco Malfoy, the big bad Death Eater who's going to whisk your children into the night to teach them all about the Dark Arts. Mwahahaha!_

Even that sounded ridiculous in his head and he couldn't help but roll his eyes. However, in doing so, he caught sight of the second floor of the bookstore. It looked (blessedly) deserted, so he made a beeline for the stairs to avoid being on the receiving end of any more unwanted attention.

He felt some of the tension leave his shoulders as his polished shoes sunk into the plush burgundy carpet, finding the silence of the towering and cramped bookcases comforting. An unexpected wave of nostalgia hit him as he thought of all the hours he used to spend in the library back in Hogwarts. Still, he couldn't help but push a fuzzy, incoherent thought away at finding the bookcases to be safe haven from the crowd downstairs.

_Oh, thank Merlin. What I'm looking for is bound to be up here, anyway. Now I remember why I stayed out of the public eye for ages… the incessant whispers and stares never fail to get old. I just loathe how they inevitably end up comparing me to father. 'Like father, like son' they tell me with infuriating, know-it-all smiles._

Frowning, Draco shook his head.

_No, this is not the time to be focusing on that… I'll be starting a job at the Ministry soon and I want to be as prepared and knowledgeable as possible. I'd hate to start without having some sort of upper hand in the matter._

Thunder rumbled in the distance as he heard the unmistakable sound of raindrops pound against the roof. That and the dim lighting in the bookstore made Draco feel rather cozy and so began to search for the book he felt would aid him most. He started at the very top shelf, slowly making his way down. He mumbled the titles to himself, often taking one out to inspect it further when it sounded promising.

The rain got heavier and soon heard the bell ring once again but paid no attention, focused on the task at hand. Still, he could hear excited murmurs and glanced with annoyance over his shoulder to see a crowd of witches surround something, or rather, some_body_.

_Easily entertained, these people are. Must be someone famous, then… it really is none of my concern._

He delved deeper into the bookshelves, oftentimes running his slim index finger over the book spines as his grey eyes flickered from title to title.

Draco heard soft but eager footsteps climb up the stairs and saw someone out of the corner of his eye dash by the bookshelves but paid no closer attention, refusing to let himself get sidetracked.

_By Salazar, this book might just be it. Though this one looks interesting too… well, why not get both? It's not like the extra reading will cause me any hindrance; on the contrary, I'm sure it would help me be that much more well-informed. Plus it would help me look good and I need as much leverage as I can get, especially with the family and checkered past I've got._

Draco stared at the hefty tomes in thought.

_As a matter of fact, this will be the first time my surname won't be of any help. Father would find that appalling… as he should. My only comfort is knowing how far he's fallen from grace._

He chuckled darkly but then heard someone muttering distractedly on the other side of the bookshelf.

"_Autograph… Golden Trio… war heroine… privilege…_"

He arched an eyebrow and walked slowly toward the source of the mumbling, pausing as the person extracted a book and flipped through the pages absentmindedly. Tilting his head slightly, he narrowed his eyes in concentration as he took in the woman's face through the gap between the bookshelves. Once again, something in the back of his head nagged at him but Draco shoved the thought away.

_Looks… eerily… familiar…_

He continued to stare for a few more minutes until an alarm began to blare off in his head.

"Granger?" he whispered incredulously.

She'd been reading to herself but froze suddenly, eyes widening slightly. She raised her head and looked around slowly, undoubtedly thinking it must have been her imagination. Finally she shrugged and started to put the book back in its place when she caught sight of Draco's eyes, watching her. She stared into them, squinting in mild concentration, for a few moments before letting out a loud gasp that was mercifully masked by a roll of thunder.

Draco felt his mouth drop open rather inelegantly as she stared back at him. Though he couldn't see all of her face, it was obvious that she had changed quite a bit. All too soon she disappeared from sight and he blinked in confusion, turning to his left as he saw her peek at him from the edge of the bookshelf, her heavy braid drooping over her shoulder.

"Granger, it _is_ you," he muttered, unable to believe that he was really looking at her.

She stepped fully into sight and Draco felt his mouth drop even more, his grey eyes roving from her feet up to her face. She wore Muggle clothing which consisted of dark fitted denim, a long khaki hooded trench coat and what looked like leopard print flats. Her face was makeup-free yet somehow managed to look glowing despite that the state of her hair and clothes were sopping wet.

"_You again_," she murmured faintly, clutching the book she was holding onto so tightly that her fingers were turning white.

Draco couldn't help but chuckle, she looked as if she'd seen a ghost. Still, he took a few steps closer to her, never once taking his eyes from hers.

"The years have been good to you," he spoke, unable to filter his thoughts.

She watched him warily, looking as though her feet were frozen to the ground.

"Thank you. You look… well, very much the same, actually," she admitted, warm brown eyes studying him. "Not as pointy, perhaps."

He let out a humorless chuckle and stopped at arm's length away from her.

"What brings you here?" he asked, feeling a sudden bout of chattiness come over him.

"To the bookstore?" she responded uncertainly, raising her delicate brows in question.

At once, Draco felt embarrassed at asking such an obvious question but refused to back down out of pure obstinacy.

"It really shouldn't come as big surprise, I suppose. You practically lived at the library in Hogwarts," he recalled fondly.

"Well… yes," she said, clearly disconcerted. "But the bigger question is: why are _you_ here? If memory serves, you weren't much for studying."

He smirked at her, eyes sparkling mischievously.

"I had better things to do. It wasn't easy, you know, being me," he said pompously, smiling lazily.

Hermione rolled her eyes but he noted that she couldn't quite contain the smile that threatened to take over her lips.

"Oh, I'm sure being the pampered Slytherin Prince was _so_ demanding," Hermione mocked, pouting exaggeratedly.

"I resent the tone. But you're correct. It was no easy feat looking so good and sweeping girls off their feet, along with being Snape's favorite. Of course, can't forget making you, Potter and Weasley's life miserable."

She snorted in an unladylike manner but Draco somehow found it strangely... disarming.

"So, going back to my original question, what brings you here?" she asked, eyeing the books he held against his chest with interest.

"Just doing a bit of research for my new job."

"Oh? Is that so? Well, congratulations," she nodded respectfully.

"Thank you, Granger. I really am looking forward to starting and creating a new life for myself."

She watched him intently before giving him a hint of a smile.

"If you focus yourself on it as much as you did tormenting us, then I'm sure you'll do great," she told him with a sardonic twist of her mouth.

Draco chuckled softly despite himself, feeling a corner of his own twitch up.

"Thank you, it sure means a lot coming from one-third of the Golden Trio."

She rolled her eyes and sighed with exasperation.

He'd noticed that there were a few wisps of hair framing her face; some sticking to her temple while others were already drying, curling slightly. Draco's fingers twitched, having the strangest urge to sweep them back.

"It was cute back in the day, now it's just old," she muttered tetchily, referring to what they called her, Potter and Weasley. "Well, I won't take up any more of your time. Good luck with your job. It was, er, interesting catching up."

Draco felt an odd dread grip his heart and found that he wasn't quite ready for this meeting to end.

"Thank you, Granger. It was good seeing you," he told her honestly, roaming his eyes all over her face just in case he never saw her again.

Maybe it was his imagination but her cheeks reddened slightly as she stared at him openly. She seemed to catch herself, clearing her throat and giving him one last nod before brushing past him.

_She smells like vanilla cookies._

He whirled around and stared after her retreating figure, watching as her braid swayed with every step she took away from him.

_She looks so different but somehow manages to be the same. How is that possible? I see now what I was too stubborn, prejudiced and blind to see back then._

He thought back to the very first time he met her, back on the Hogwarts Express.

(flashback)

_Draco was seated languidly on the seat, legs spread out before him and crossed at the ankle. He'd been pigging out with Crabbe and Goyle, making them eat the gross Every Flavor Beans and was in the process of opening a Chocolate Frog when the door to their compartment was rudely slid open. He stared at the girl with displeasure, not containing the snicker that bubbled in his throat as he noticed her hair; it was thick, bushy and it looked as though it had never been brushed. She too, however, already wore her robes and was looking under the seats imperiously._

"_Have you boys seen a toad? A boy Neville has lost his," she sighed, undoubtedly finding the very act irresponsible._

"_If I had a toad, I'd lose it too," Draco smirked, glancing at his companions as if giving them permission to laugh._

_They guffawed and Draco felt himself fill with pride. The girl, however, didn't seem terribly impressed._

"_Well, if you happen to see it, would you please return it to him? We're three compartments over," she pointed._

_She started to turn to leave but he called out to her, asking for her name. She turned instantly, a big smile gracing her round face._

**_My, she has awfully large front teeth. How dreadful. Couldn't her parents have fixed that for her?_**

"_My name is Hermione Jean Granger. Yours?"_

"_That is quite a mouthful for someone so small," he remarked thoughtlessly._

_She pursed her lips at him, shooting him an annoyed look._

"_Draco Lucius Malfoy."_

_She raised her eyebrows but said nothing._

**_All the better for her. Still, she must not be familiar with my family or else she would have practically bowed down to me. But then that must mean… no matter, in time she'll realize just who I am._**

"_Well then, I suppose I'll be seeing you around, Draco Lucius Malfoy."_

"_Don't flatter yourself, Granger," Draco scoffed, giving his cronies a sideways smirk._

_They started laughing stupidly while she simply rolled her eyes and removed herself from his compartment. He watched the last of her big bushy head and felt a strange sense of relief as she vanished._

**_There's something about her…_**

(end flashback)

Draco sighed and stared at nothing, the memory of 11-year-old Hermione Granger burning into his mind while the scent of a grown Hermione Granger lingered in the air, teasing his senses. He shook himself out of his reverie, making his way to pay for the books, trying to ignore the stares and murmurs that never ceased to shadow him wherever he went.

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Thoughts? Concerns? Inquiries?

Thank you for taking the time to read, I genuinely appreciate it. :)


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for following, reviewing and putting the story to favorite, I truly appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

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Hermione Apparated into her flat, feeling slightly shaken and it had nothing to do with being caught in the rain. She dropped her new book onto the coffee table, flicking her wand absentmindedly toward the fireplace where a merry fire began to crackle as though it'd been burning for hours. She took her coat off, hanging it on a hook and slipped her flats off one by one, feeling the fire warm her slowly. She went into her bedroom to change into a soft pair of sweatpants and thick pair of wool socks, smiling in comfort.

She walked back to her living room, grabbed her book and plopped herself down in front of the fire, tucking her legs underneath her. She opened the book, pleased for thinking of waterproofing it before leaving the store so the pages wouldn't get damaged. She inhaled deeply, relishing the scent of it and settled herself to start reading when the unbidden thought of Draco Malfoy popped into her head.

_He looked… so different, yet very much the same after all these years. Did he really compliment me or am I just going barmy? His hair is still the same white blond, eyes still icy and grey… though his features certainly matured. He did look thin, though… dressed in black, as usual. It always did suit him perfectly, to be honest. I can't believe it's been five years since I last saw him… how time flies._

Hermione stared into the fire, remembering the last time she'd seen Draco Malfoy.

(flashback)

_He sat in the seat, wrists shackled to the armrests. He looked gaunt, tired yet there seemed to be a dulled sort of hope in his eyes, or perhaps it was one of sheer desperation. His hair was mussed and far longer than she'd ever seen it, his clothes surprisingly torn and dirty. Hermione couldn't believe the man sitting before her was the pompous and vainglorious Draco Malfoy who used to check his reflection in the back of spoons (ostensibly to check that no hair was out of place, Hermione thought to herself) and never seemed to have one article of uniform out of place, from the green and silver tie tucked into his vest down to the smallest detail like his perfectly looped shoelaces. _

_Ron kept glaring at him, muttering how he should be sent to Azkaban for life while Harry seemed to be looking everywhere but the youngest Malfoy._

"_Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, declare yourself to be guilty of treason and torture?"_

_He sat slumped in his chair, not bothering to look at Kingsley Shacklebolt, now head of the Wizengamot._

"_Yes," he spoke clearly, a nerve jumping in his cheek._

"_You, however, claim you were blackmailed and threatened to do so. Is that correct?"_

"_That is correct."_

"_Would you please elaborate?"_

"_I'm sure you're well aware of who my father is—"_

"_Here we go," Ron huffed, rolling his eyes dramatically._

_Hermione gave him a hard look and nudged his side._

"_He's known to be one of… the Dark Lord's supporters. As a matter of fact, you could say my father was his right hand. Well, at least until the moment father failed a mission. But even then father never stopped trying to get in his good graces. To the degree that when the Dark Lord was short of a wand, my father had the 'privilege' to hand over his," he said, raising his head yet looking at nothing._

_At this, the witches and wizards in the court gasped._

"_Bloody git, calling him 'Dark Lord'," Ron murmured, closing his hands into tight fists angrily._

"_Ronald, will you be quiet?" Hermione hissed at him._

_He harrumphed unhappily but obliged._

"_I, myself, was branded a Death Eater merely to make up for my father's shortcomings. There's no doubt in my mind that I was going to die had Severus Snape not intervened and murdered Dumbledore in my stead. I was often deemed 'too soft' by Aunt Bellatrix and father, which is, quite frankly, the only thing they could agree upon. So, I was often submitted to the Cruciatus Curse, if something went wrong. Since I was the youngest, fault would often be placed on me. As you can now imagine, I was brought up to believe that being Pureblood was of the highest honor. That Mud—Muggleborns and Muggles were below us and to associate or even procreate with them was an abomination. Being filthy rich didn't help matters nor the fact that everybody always bent to my father's will. I was told that I would be just like my father, and for a few years I was _**_actually _**_proud of it!" he bellowed, rattling his hands violently in their restraints. "Needless to say, I became rather disenchanted by the end. I denounce and blame him. I'm not altogether innocent, but there isn't as much blood on my hands as there is on his. What kind of parent turns their back on their only son? He just as good left me to die when he turned me over to the Dark Lord. I never want to see him again as long as I should live."_

_The court became deathly quiet, undoubtedly appalled at his words. Hermione's chest tightened with disgust and dismay, unable to believe that the Malfoys would put their only son through such ordeal._

"_I mean, it was always obvious that he inherited his gross prejudice from his parents. But they instilled and encouraged that very trait in him. How sad," Hermione muttered to her friends._

_Ron looked outraged, gaping at her while Harry remained quiet._

"_Are you serious, Hermione? Are you really excusing him for the bloody torture he put us through in school?"_

"_I'm not, Ron. But it's certainly easier to understand now. Inversely, it's like your dad loves Muggles and as a result you don't have a problem with them. Don't be too harsh," she sighed wearily, not wanting to get into an argument with him._

_Ron shook his head stubbornly but said nothing._

"_Mr. Malfoy, after hearing your side and two written testimonies, __we've come to a unanimous agreement. We proclaim you innocent, so you will be free to go. Word of advice, Mr. Malfoy… we suggest you keep out of the public eye for a while," Kingsley spoke sternly although not unkindly._

_The restraints suddenly disappeared and Malfoy stared at his hands in surprise, flexing them as he looked up at the council._

"_Wiser advice has not fallen on more appreciative ears. Thank you," he spoke slowly._

_The courtroom slowly started emptying, wizards and witches speaking amongst each other. But the trio remained in their seat, as did Malfoy. Harry was still avoiding eye contact while Ron slouched, arms crossed. Hermione couldn't help but stare at Malfoy, who looked so sullen and lost. He finally let out a deep sigh and stood up tiredly, making sure to avoid looking at them._

_Hermione stood up abruptly, watching him raptly._

"_Let's go," she murmured and the boys followed her reluctantly._

"_You're not actually planning on talking to him, are you Hermione?" Ron asked incredulously._

_Hermione walked faster, her stride no match for Malfoy's long legs._

"_Hermione, no way… you're mental," Ron hissed, catching up to her and grabbing her arm. "In case you haven't forgotten, his aunt was the one who tortured you and he was the one who did nothing to prevent Harry from practically being sacrificed back at their manor!"_

_Hermione let out a frustrated sigh as she struggled to free her arm from Ron's death grip._

"_Ron, Ron, please…" she whispered, looking into his blue eyes and hoping he'd see reason._

"_I'm sorry, Hermione… no. Just… no," he shook his head vehemently, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms tightly around her._

_She froze, at a loss for what to do. Sure, she was his girlfriend but she wanted so desperately to say something comforting to Malfoy. He was about to reach the door when he paused, causing Hermione's heart to jump to her throat. He glanced at Harry and Ron first before finally settling his exhausted gaze on her. She wanted to communicate some sort of consolatory congratulations to him but he looked away just as quickly and exited silently._

_She swallowed thickly, wrapping her arms around Ron's body and buried her face in his chest, attempting to purge thoughts of Draco Malfoy from her head._

_It was over, it was finally all over._

(end flashback)

"Maybe I should tell Harry and Ron…" she mused out loud.

She dug the galleon she had bewitched back in their fifth year with the Protean Charm and sent a quick message to Harry.

_Hey Hermione._

_Are you busy?_

_No, what's up?_

_Can you ask Ron to meet you at your place? Say in… 10 minutes?_

_Sure thing._

_I'll be arriving via Floo._

_See you then._

Hermione went into her room to take her socks off, slipping her feet into trainers instead. She grabbed a hoodie, slipped it over her head and grabbed her wand. She Banished the flames with a quick flick of her wand; now the fireplace looked immaculate, as if there hadn't been a toasty fire burning just seconds before. She tucked her wand safely into the large front pocket of her hoodie and grabbed a pinch of the glittering emerald powder from the flowerpot resting on the mantel. Bright green flames busted, the gentle breeze of them fanning across her face.

She stepped into her fireplace and spoke clearly.

"Harry Potter, Godric's Hollow."

She closed her eyes as she felt herself getting sucked in to what she felt was a vortex. Before she knew it, she was standing in Harry's fireplace and hopped out. She brushed the soot off her hoodie and straightened up, looking at a grinning Harry Potter.

"Always so prim and proper… even in sweatpants and trainers," he snickered.

She let out a sigh and rolled her eyes but still gave her best friend a hug.

"How are you, Hermione? Sounded urgent."

"Has Ron arrived yet?"

Harry rolled his eyes and fell into his comfy couch.

"You know him, late for everything. If it wasn't for you, I'd swear he'd be running around like a chicken with its head cut off."

She frowned at him but couldn't help but giggle at the imagery.

At that moment, the fireplace gave a mighty lurch and out came Ron, crashing into Hermione and causing them to fall on Harry. She heard Harry groan and struggled to lift her body from his.

"Ronald… get off of me! We're crushing Harry! Ginny, help your brother get off!" she muttered, face squashed against the back of the couch.

"This is too much fun, though. It's like watching a bumbling group of—"

"Ginevra!" she huffed. "Can't breathe, it's not funny!"

Hermione finally felt Ron's weight lifted off of her and she took a deep gulp of air, pushing herself off of Harry.

"Harry, I'm so sorry!" she sighed, turning to glare daggers at Ron while helping Harry to his feet.

"It's fine, Hermione, don't worry about it," Harry said with a wave of his hand.

"Hermione, what was _so_ urgent that you pulled me out of a game of chess with _Percy_?" Ron asked, simultaneously exasperated and curious.

She'd finished kissing Ginny's cheek and paused, turning to look at her friends slowly.

"I saw… Malfoy."

"What?!"

"Where?!"

"That git, did he say anything to you?"

"Calm down, calm down… it had started to rain and I was close to Flourish and Blott's, so I went in to avoid getting soaked any further. I went to the second floor to avoid getting mauled for autographs and pictures when I hear someone whisper my name. I look around but see nobody and conclude that it was my imagination. But I'm putting a book back and I see a pair of grey eyes staring at me, so I take a peek… and sure enough, it was Malfoy himself," she recounted as they watched and listened to her in rapt attention.

"How… was he?" Harry asked quietly.

"He looked better than last time we saw him…" Hermione trailed off. "He told me that the years have been kind to me."

"He what?!" Ginny gasped, pressing her fingertips against her lower lip as though scandalized.

"I know, I couldn't believe it either. I was half-expecting him to dole out an insult at me but… nothing. He was nothing but civil. Polite even. It was the most bizarre thing ever."

"What was he doing in Flourish and Blott's, though? Couldn't have been up to good," Ron spoke distrustfully.

Hermione clicked her tongue at Ron and shook her head.

"He must have been looking for background information, I suppose. He told me he was starting a job soon, so it must have been for that."

"Where?"

"Honestly, for Merlin's sake… I don't know, Ronald. But he looked… recovered," she stated thoughtfully.

"As recovered as someone who went through that experience can be," Harry muttered, rubbing his chin.

"Mate, you of all people should hate him! All the bollocks he put us through…"

"_Ronald_," Hermione warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I'm serious! Why don't you lot see him for what he really is? I just don't understand it."

"I understand why you feel like that, Ron, I really do. But you need to keep in mind that the feud between your dad and his never helped make things easier between the two of you. His arrogance and your stubbornness only made things worse throughout the years," Hermione said logically but also wanting to pacify him.

"_My _stubbornness?" he snorted, crossing his arms protectively against his chest.

Hermione, Ginny and Harry traded looks with each other before turning to him and he had the nerve to look defiant though there was an abashed flush on his freckled face.

"Yeah, well, I reckon my _stubbornness_ isn't nearly as bad as Malfoy's arrogance," Ron muttered darkly. "But it's not only his arrogance! It's his pride, the way he treated the people he didn't like, the way he thought himself above everybody—"

"Alright, Ron, you're right," Ginny interjected, knowing he could work himself up if he wasn't stopped.

Hermione gave her a look of appreciation before pressing her hand on his shoulder.

_Thank Merlin. He could have gone on and on about Malfoy. He may be many things but I'm not sure it's any worse than Ron's tenacity. Best not let him know because he'd take that personally._

Harry changed the topic to Quidditch, much to Hermione's chagrin. Hours later, their conversation of Draco Malfoy was long forgotten.

* * *

Thank you for reading! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing. Sad day.

* * *

Draco stared at himself in the full-length mirror, scrutinizing every angle on his body. While it could be argued that it was an act borne out of narcissism, it was actually one out of pure uneasiness. He kept smoothing down the front of his ever pristine robes and looked for any specks of crud on his flawlessly polished black shoes.

He let out a tense breath and shook his head at himself, well aware that he was being ridiculous.

"I look fine… I need to stop behaving like a bloody woman," he murmured, unable to resist giving one last look in the mirror before turning away.

As a matter of fact, Draco looked better than a mere 'fine' could describe. He'd gained all the weight he'd lost and in an effort to vent his frustrations, started exercising. His body was lean, toned with the right amount of musculature. His dark (if not black) clothes never failed to emphasize the blond of his hair, which was always perfectly styled with a side part and swooped to the side; although now he skipped all the muck he used back in Hogwarts that kept it slicked in place. He wore a black button down shirt and black trousers under his black robes. While other people looked downright morbid sporting all black, on him, it looked fairly elegant. More than that, it made him look aristocratic, which was further enhanced by his graceful movements.

He felt the palms of his hands start to get clammy once more and resisted the urge to wipe them on his trousers, choosing to check to time instead.

"Better go early to impress the boss," he murmured to himself, grabbing his black dragon hide suitcase.

He picked up his wand and Apparated just outside the entrance of the Ministry of Magic. He took a deep breath and stepped into the seemingly innocuous phone booth and stated his name and office and was immediately slid to the Ministry itself. The doors opened automatically and Draco straightened the lapels of his robe nervously, glancing around before stepping out, following the line of witches and wizards who were waiting to get into their respective lifts.

He finally arrived to the fourth level of the Ministry, which was the department he'd gotten hired into. He looked around apprehensively, desperately wanting to disappear into thin air. Of course, to the outside world he looked as aloof as ever but they certainly didn't know what went on in his head, did they?

_Damn! Maybe I **should** have taken the invisibility cloak Mother had offered me…_

"Draco! So good to see you," rumbled the voice of Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt.

He almost jumped out of his glossy oxfords as Shacklebolt made his way to him, bringing even more unwanted attention to him.

"You're better than punctual, son," he laughed heartily, clapping Draco on the back and almost causing him to tip over.

"Didn't want to be late on my first day…" he mumbled, holding tightly onto his briefcase.

Shacklebolt smiled genuinely at the young Malfoy, causing him to become even more flustered.

"Dumbledore always saw something good in you."

Draco felt his cheeks tinge pink but managed to give the Minister what could have passed for a small smile.

"About your office—"

"Kingsley! Good morning, sir! I just need your signature so I can get bloody Alistair off my back. He keeps _nagging_—" the one and only Hermione Granger rambled, stopping dead when she saw Draco standing next to the Minister.

She gave the Minister a polite, if questioning look before turning to give Draco an uncertain smile that didn't quite reach her eyes; Draco could see all the questions she had swirling in their dark depths.

"Erm… sir, what's going on?"

"I hired Mr. Malfoy to be your newest assistant. I'm going to need you to show him around the department and then to show him the way to his office."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock as she stared at the Minister. Had Draco been any less nervous, he would have laughed at how comical she looked. But as it was, he was rather stunned to hear that none other than Hermione Granger would be his boss.

Shacklebolt watched Hermione patiently as she gathered her wits and closed her mouth, giving Draco a tight-lipped smile. She cleared her throat and shifted the envelope she held between her hands.

"It would be a pleasure, sir," she nodded, motioning for Draco to follow her.

"Miss Granger…"

"Yes, sir?" she turned around suddenly (_almost eagerly_, thought Draco) and practically walked into him, who was at her heels.

"The papers that need signing?" he asked patiently, seeming to find the situation amusing judging by the smile that lurked on his mouth.

Her face turned a bright pink as she handed the Minister the envelope quietly. He nodded and wished them a good say before turning away.

"Where to start…" she mused, looking around as if she were lost.

Draco watched her, feeling quite entertained as she mumbled to herself. He took this opportunity to get a good look at her and almost wished he hadn't. She wasn't donning robes, but rather Muggle work clothes. She was wearing a tight, black knee-length skirt, matching fitted blazer and underneath that a simple blouse with three gold (currently unbuttoned) buttons at the top. He observed that she had a dainty necklace strung around her neck and found that it fit her quite well; she also wore simple gold studs in her ears. Her chestnut hair was in loose waves that reached her lower back, no longer bushy or unruly but rather sleek and chic. He forced himself to look down and admired her black patent heels.

_My, my… Ms. Granger is looking rather delectable nowadays. All she needs is a pair of glasses and she could very well pass off as a very sexy librarian…_

He froze, taken aback by the direction of his thoughts.

"Okay, so we're going to start over here with Collins…"

An excruciating half an hour later, they finally came to a stop.

"Okay, that's about everybody that you need to know," she told him, motioning for him to follow her once again.

Draco sighed gratefully, there were only so many more inquisitive stares and uncertain smiles that he could stand.

_Especially before my morning coffee._

She opened the door to an office and he walked in, murmuring 'thanks' to her.

"This is going to be your office. It's directly connected to mine through that door," she said, closing the door behind her and pointing.

"This is mine? It's pretty big," he observed, looking around the spacious room.

She chuckled faintly, finding seeming to find something in his expression humorous.

"Look, Malfoy… I'm sorry about the stares and murmurs. I'll do my best to ensure that everybody treats you fairly. I'm sure many think that it's your name that got you this job, but I know Kingsley to be one of the most unbiased and fair wizards. He wouldn't care if you were homeless or deaf as long as he'd be sure that you're right for the job," she spoke firmly but kindly to him.

He stilled at the tone of her voice, feeling an unexpected surge of relief at her words.

"I know we never particularly got along in school, but I know you're a different person now. I'd like to think so, anyway, judging by our last encounter. So, whatever prejudices you may or may not hold against me still, could you please not let them interfere? I'm your boss and while I don't like pulling the 'I'm your superior' card, I'm going to ask you to respect my decisions. I will, of course, ask for your input and take it into consideration if fair but once my final decision has been made, there will be no swaying me. I like preciseness. I thrive on order. I appreciate efficiency, loyalty and honesty. I don't stand for brainless mistakes nor will I repeat myself a multiple number of times. You got it?" she spoke, crossing her arms and looking at him authoritatively.

Draco felt his mouth hang open slightly but had the sense to close it before he had a chance to make a fool of himself.

"Absolutely, Granger. I want to thank you for this opportunity…"

"No, stop. This wasn't up to me. But had I gotten a say in it, I would have approved. Mostly because I believe in second chances and that you aren't as vile as you made us believe," she spoke, letting herself smile.

Draco couldn't help and smile back but shook his head slightly.

"I was every bit monstrous as you think I was. But I have turned a new leaf, as the Muggle saying goes. I wouldn't dare destroy this perfect opportunity of getting my life together once again and proving that I am worthier than people believe me to be. It's all I ever wanted. It's all I've been waiting for."

Hermione watched him impassively, nodding her head in agreement.

"Well, if it means anything, Malfoy, I believe in you," she told him sincerely. "It may sound strange, especially coming from _me_, but I'm proud of you. Proud of you for taking the first step to become the person you want to become instead of going back into the old ways."

"Well, isn't that sweet?" drawled a voice.

Draco and Hermione turned to it, finding a scowling Ron Weasley leaning against the adjoining doorway that lead to her office.

"Ron! For how long have you been standing there?" she asked, sounding embarrassed.

"Long enough," he muttered before striding to Hermione and pulling her into a kiss.

Draco sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, sitting himself at the edge of his new desk, only feet away from them.

"For Merlin's sake… get a room, would you? I'd hate for my breakfast to make a re-appearance," Draco spoke coldly, sounding more like his younger self.

Hermione finally managed to extricate herself from Ron, her face a bright shade of magenta.

"Erm, sorry about that Malfoy, Ron can be a little hard to dissuade sometimes," she mumbled, giving Ron a glare.

But Ron just smiled at her, pulling her tightly to his side.

"Weasley, please. This is no place to assert your dominance," Draco told him coolly. "I don't want anything to do with Granger, nor have I ever wanted to. I'm merely putting up with her because she's my boss and if she's not happy with my _assisting_, she will undoubtedly can me."

A strange mix of emotions passed through Hermione's chocolate brown eyes, a slight crease in her forehead as he spoke. Even so, Draco tried his best to not look at her because he was scared that she would see right through his words. Ron just continued to smile although the expression anything but friendly or happy.

"Brilliant. Anyway, I'll be off now. See you later, _darling_," he said, pulling her to him once more and kissing her loudly.

Draco stood up and gave them their back, rolling his eyes so hard they were at risk to stay stuck permanently at the back of his skull.

"Goodbye, ferret."

"As always a pleasure, Weasley," Draco drawled, raising his hand to wave.

He turned around and expected Hermione to have left with him but to his surprise was still standing there, staring intently at him. She frowned slightly and bit her lip, an act that made Draco want to stroke her rosebud of a lower lip.

_What in the… thoughts like that are worse than useless. As if it weren't bad enough, she's my boss now… and completely out of my league with her being a war heroine and all. Besides, if anything, I'm only attracted to her looks. It's only natural, the way she's dressed. Though I'm sure she's completely oblivious to the stares, her head undoubtedly going over the work she has yet to complete._

"Yes, Granger?"

At the sound of his voice, she snapped out of her reverie, causing her to blush and look down.

"If you need anything or have further questions, I'll in my office."

"Yes, boss lady."

"And Malfoy… good use of Muggle expressions," she said, giving him a strange little smile that caused his stomach to wobble strangely.

He swallowed thickly as she stepped into her office, turning to look at him one last time before leaving their adjoining door halfway opened.

Draco closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, hunching his shoulders slightly.

_Stop it, you sod, that will not do. You're at work now and you can't afford any distractions… no matter how delicious they may seem. You heard her, she takes her job seriously and won't stand for any buffoonery… not that I was planning on screwing up. I was dead serious when I told her just how much this job means to me._

Draco inhaled deeply and pushed himself off the edge of the desk and strode to his chair, sitting down comfortably. The desk was bare but nothing a few trinkets from his apartment (that he'd accumulated on his travels through the years) couldn't fix.

_I have that picture of Mother that I love so much. I wonder how she's doing… I know she's used to being separated from fath— Lucius, but this is an entirely different matter. I must write to her soon. Perhaps I could even go visit her on a day off. Lunch and shopping, just like old times._

A corner of Draco's mouth lifted at the memory of his last shopping excursion with his Mother. He looked down at the shiny wood of the desk and saw his reflection staring back at him.

_I may look like him, but I'm more of a Black than I give myself credit for. Well, notwithstanding __the propensity of insanity. _

He chuckled softly and indulged in another happy memory of his mother before straightening his back and shuffling through the papers that had just landed on his desk.

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Thanks for taking the time to read! As always, I appreciate the review(s) along with following and/or putting the story as one of your favorites. :)


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the reviews and following the story. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Months passed with little to no consequence, much to Hermione's relief and Ron's annoyance. Still, she couldn't help the shiver that ran through her body every time a certain wizard's grey eyes lingered on her or the way her heartbeat sped up when their fingers or arms brushed accidentally. Hermione could help the guilt she was plagued by afterwards even less, scolding and muttering to herself to get back to work.

Hermione wasn't completely surprised to discover Draco was every bit the gentleman that a vast amount of money tends to breed (although a part of her couldn't help but wonder where _this_ Draco had been back when he used to taunt her in school). He was constantly refilling her mug with the green tea that she brewed throughout the day; she avoided coffee as much as she could because she found that it made her edgy and she loathed how jittery it made her. He would often remind her to go to lunch when she got lost in paperwork and would tell her to go home at the end of the workday.

All in all, Hermione could find nothing to complain about the former bane of her existence.

"Hermione, I seriously don't understand why you keep him around," Ron said one Friday morning, rolling his eyes.

"He's very diligent and you _know_ how I appreciate that. Besides, I have zero complaints about his work ethic," she told him a tad defensively.

Ron watched her skeptically, toying with the cuff of his robes.

"If you say so," he shrugged, nettling Hermione slightly.

"Ron, we may love each other but that doesn't mean we have to see everything eye to eye. I suppose it's what drew me to you," she told him, hoping to placate him. "You're so easygoing while I tend to take matters too seriously… you lighten me up."

He looked up at her and Hermione idly recalled how his bright blue eyes used to make her heart go pitter patter at the beginning of their relationship. She wasn't sure if it was due to his insensitive words but grew alarmed upon the realization that she felt nothing looking into them.

_Uh-oh… what's going on?_

She bit her lip and looked away, swallowing nervously.

"Thank you, Mione," he spoke softly, sincerely.

She chanced a glance at him and saw him smiling crookedly at her. That simple gesture made her heart slam into her chest; whether out of surprise or love, she wasn't sure. But the relief that flooded her was welcomed and so she smiled back at him.

"However, I don't think I'll be able to have dinner with you as planned. The department wants to go out for drinks after work and I'd really like to join them. Not as their boss, but as their colleague. I want to get to know them better and show them I'm not always their insufferable, know-it-all boss… you understand, right?"

He let out a loud sigh and half shrugged.

"That's fine. Just be careful, alright? If you need anything, you know where I am, okay?"

She nodded, appreciative of his concern.

_I'm such a hag… how could I possibly doubt my love for him? I've wanted him to notice and love me in return ever since I can remember. I definitely don't deserve him… at times, anyway._

"Is… is the ferret going to be there?" he asked hesitantly.

"Probably not. He's not big on socializing," she told him with a shrug that she hoped illustrated indifference despite the spike of adrenaline she felt.

He brightened visibly and grinned at her.

"How about we have lunch instead?"

"That sounds good, Won-Won," Hermione teased, smiling affectionately at him.

He groaned softly and pooched his lower lip out.

"Please don't call me that, Hermione. I hated that nickname when she gave it to me and I hate it even more now," he sighed, shaking his head wearily.

Hermione snickered, rising from her chair and walked to his side.

"Aww, does Won-Won hate it? But it fits him so well!" she cooed, leaning down to be at eye level with him.

He couldn't help but laugh and wrapped his arms around her, causing her to lose her balance and topple onto his lap. Ron smirked at her, tightening his arms around her slender waist causing Hermione's face to heat up.

"Ron, stop… someone could walk—"

"Well, well… Granger, Weasley. What is this I've walked into?" drawled a familiar voice.

Hermione felt her face pale and she struggled to get up from Ron's lap, but he managed to hold on to her tightly.

"This isn't… this isn't what it looks like. _Ron_!" she hissed his name.

"Not that it's any of your business, really," Ron told him scathingly.

"Ouch, you sure put me in my place, Weasley," Draco laughed, clutching at his chest as though wounded. "Anyway, just came to drop off these documents that arrived for you, Granger. Not sure why the owl came to me when it's clearly addressed to you. Will you be taking your lunch soon? We need to discuss what we're going to do with Collins about the new elf coalition group."

"Sorry, Malfoy… she promised she'd have lunch with me. Looks like it'll have to wait," Ron told him, sounding anything but sorry.

Malfoy gave him a saccharine smile and shrugged his shoulders.

"Doesn't bother me in the slightest, Weasley. Just reminding her, as she told me to do so," he responded briskly. "Well, you lovebirds have fun," he winked at them before sauntering back to his office, robes billowing around his ankles.

Hermione stared after him, feeling as though her heart dropped into her gut.

"What a git! I _really_ wish you didn't have him around you, Mione… something about him is just off."

"Ronald! What did I tell you? Nothing you say will make me change my mind about keeping him! He is good at his job and that type of person is hard to find nowadays. I don't care how much you pout, sulk or whine, I'm keeping Draco Malfoy and that's the end of that," she told him sternly, ripping herself from his arms. "Now, are we going to lunch or what? I'm starving."

He nodded meekly, standing up as Hermione fished around for her wand and purse.

"Let's go. I'm in the mood for sushi," she told him, leaving no room for argument.

Hermione looked at the watch that was strapped around her thin wrist and held back a sigh.

_Just ten more minutes… or maybe I should do it now, to avoid chickening out. Come on, Hermione… you helped defeat Voldemort. Surely you can pluck the courage to ask him to join you. Wait, not just me. The entire department. Yes, all of _**_us_**_._

She swallowed nervously and pushed herself off her chair, practically dragging her high heeled clad feet. She peeked at him from the doorframe, finding it admirable how his back never once touched the back of his chair. She herself hated her posture and blamed the bookbag that she used to cram with books to the brim back in school, inevitably causing her back to stoop slightly. He now appeared to be signing and stamping the document he had been reading, an action that Hermione found very professional.

"Erm… Malfoy?" she called out tentatively.

He jumped in his chair, causing her to smile. He whirled around and narrowed his icy eyes at her, making her heart leap into her throat.

_Cool down, Hermione… he's just looking at you._

"Yes, Granger? How may I be of assistance?" he questioned attentively.

"A few of us of the department are going out for drinks to the newly refurbished Leaky Cauldron. Would you like… would you like to come?" she asked him softly, never looking away from his eyes.

A clouded emotion passed through his eyes, causing him to look away for a moment.

"I don't think your boyfriend would appreciate that very much," he spoke, voice equally gentle.

Hermione felt her feet walk over to him as if they had a brain of their own.

"He doesn't have to know."

He glanced up at her, eyes lighting with mischief and mouth pulled into a sexy smirk. Hermione's mouth dropped open slightly, feeling her face burn before they both looked away.

"I'm sure it would only serve to cause a rift between the two of you should he find out about my attendance. He would – unquestioningly – hate me even more, though truthfully I'm past caring at this point. He may think whatever he pleases of me and nothing I say or do will change that. I don't, however, want him to mistrust you because of me," he told her quietly, unable to look at her.

Hermione felt her heart pound faster and dared to give herself the slightest of hope that he wasn't as indifferent as he looked... and immediately squashed that inappropriate feeling.

"He holds a giant grudge against you, it's true. But he needs to learn to trust me and my choices because that's how adult relationships work. So, are you in or not?"

He tilted his head slightly, causing a pale tendril of hair to brush against his forehead as he contemplated her question. Hermione's fingers began to itch strangely, wanting to brush it back.

_What is the matter with you? This is Malfoy and there's no way he'd ever let you touch him. Although… is his hair as soft as it looks? Damn, stop it, Hermione._

"Come on, I'll buy you a drink. Or two. We can celebrate over what good team we've become in the last few months," she smiled, hoping to cajole him.

"Twist my wand arm, why don't you," he joked wryly, standing up to gather his things.

With a quick glance at her watch, Hermione was startled to find that the ten minutes were halfway gone.

_How time flies when I'm with him! Even the workday itself seems to breeze on by…_

After slipping her blazer on and hiking her purse over her shoulder, Hermione waited silently for him just outside his door.

"Shall we… shall we Apparate together?" she asked, feeling butterflies flutter in her stomach.

"Do you really think I would leave you hanging, _boss?_" he drawled, tucking his wand inside his robes.

She smirked and raised her brow.

"Not at all, Malfoy. Just don't want you to get lost. And we all know how bloody stubborn you men can be about asking for directions," she told him cheekily, to which he chuckled.

"How do we go about this without making things awkward?" he asked, raising his pale brows.

She held her right arm aloft, one he stared at for a moment before gingerly taking a hold of it. Even so, Hermione could feel the damnable butterflies travel up her torso, chest and finally down her arm at his touch.

"Hold on tight, lest you want to get splinched," she warned.

But before Draco could form a retort, she turned on the spot, Disapparating out of his office and Apparating into the night.

Once they landed smoothly, Draco let go of her arm but she found that she already missed the way his hand melded around her forearm. She sighed inwardly, feeling slightly ashamed of herself and walked into The Leaky Cauldron.

"It's certainly been a long while since I was last here," Draco murmured, looking up at the chandeliers that hung from the ceiling.

"Not bad, huh? And it's close to work. It makes it _the_ best après-work watering hole," she said as she took a seat at the bar.

"I am certainly impressed," he nodded, looking out for the bartender.

"No, no bartender here. You just order want you want and it appears. Neat, huh?" she grinned, taking her blazer off and setting it on the back of her chair.

_Was it my imagination, or did his gaze traverse my neck and shoulders?_

"Yes, _neat_. How'd you know about that?"

"I read it in the Prophet."

"Oh."

"What's wrong?" she asked him curiously, noticing his drawn expression.

"I… stopped reading the Prophet long ago. Probably around the time… fath— _Lucius's _first stint in Azkaban," he whispered, looking suddenly exhausted. "And with even more reason after the war and my trial."

Hermione's lips parted as if she had something to say but remained silent, not wanting to offer him platitudes.

_How does one even convey their sympathy without coming off as pitying? Better change the topic, then. Come on, Hermione… anything!_

"Well, you look good. So order up, handsome," she told him, rapping her knuckles against the bar. "Firewhisky sour for me."

She saw his cheeks color from the corner of her eye, his attractive face set in a bewildered expression.

"Firewhisky on the rocks for me, please," he said uncertainly, watching raptly how Hermione's drink appeared before her.

She gripped the glass tightly, enjoying the cooling sensation it sent through her overly heated body. Draco's appeared with a _pop_ before him and he hesitated in taking it, muttering _thanks_ to nobody in particular before turning to look at Hermione.

"Cheers," she told him, holding her glass out.

"Cheers," he mumbled, clinking his glass against hers before taking a deep drink.

She watched him, feeling the warmth of the whisky spread through her veins.

Draco downed his drink and quickly ordered another as soon as their co-workers walked in through the door, Hermione noticed.

"You have nothing to be nervous about. I'm here," she told him reassuringly, patting his arm lightly.

His eyes lingered on her hand (making Hermione blush and remove it hastily) before slowly looking into her eyes.

"I'm not nervous. I'm only thirsty," he sneered. "It sure hits the spot, don't you agree?"

"Sure does," she mumbled, looking away before she'd get caught staring.

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Thanks for reading! Have a great weekend, everybody. :)


	5. Chapter 5

As always, thank you for continuing to follow and review, I truly appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing. Except the plot, perhaps.

* * *

"Never pegged you for a firewhisky type of woman, Granger," Draco commented, glancing at the crystal tumbler she held.

_Merlin, she looks so beautiful. While I prefer her hair down, she looks so... approachable with that bun. She resembles a kitten, with those baby hairs sticking out near her temples._

He smiled to himself as she watched him curiously, undoubtedly wondering what he's smiling about.

"Can't judge a book by its cover, Malfoy," she chuckled, elevating her brows slightly.

Draco felt his expression fall and gripped his tumbler tightly.

"But it's what I did all throughout my childhood and the majority of my teenage years. Bloody waste," he murmured, taking another drink.

_Maybe I should slow down, I haven't drank alcohol in ages and I'm with a woman… who happens to be in a relationship with the world's biggest wanker. And while I wouldn't mind having a nice verbal spat with the weasel, I don't want to cause her any problems. _

Her expression softened and started to reach her hand out toward Draco's arm once more but stopped, drawing it back slowly. Even so, he could still feel the warmth of her body radiating off of her.

_Could that be the first time she's touched me? Ah, no. But of course not… how could I have possibly forgotten?_

"That was quite a hefty punch you threw our third year, by the way. I've never quite been able to forget that," he chortled, ordering another firewhisky on the rocks.

She scrunched her nose adorably, her face growing crimson but gave him wry smile all the same.

"Ron said it was brilliant."

"He _would_ think so. I think out of you three, he hated me the most. Still does, I'm sure," he chuckled humorlessly. "I tried my best to make you all equally miserable, though."

"Why? Why did you hate us so much?" she whispered, brows kneading together with uncertainty. "As far as I know, we never did anything to you. You were always the aggressor, constantly hounding and taunting us. Especially Harry and Ron."

At the tone of her voice, Draco turned to look at her. Her expression was distressed, verging on confused. He was struck by the urge to try to explain the workings of his convoluted young mind.

"Because you had what I desired most in the world!"

She frowned, lips freezing on the rim of her glass.

"I don't understand…"

He laughed humorlessly.

"I don't think you would."

She scowled suddenly, setting her glass down a little too loudly. Everybody from the department who was in attendance turned to look at her then at Draco a little suspiciously. She procured a smile and then waved her hand sheepishly.

"Wouldn't want to break a glass, now would I?" she joked nervously.

There was some laughter before everybody returned to their own conversations.

"Don't you dare patronize me, Malfoy!" she hissed, dropping her easy demeanor. "You sure did it more than enough back in school!"

He cringed, grimacing for a few seconds before letting out a sigh.

_Still, I can't deny the attraction I feel when she looks at me with fire in her eyes, a fire that takes me back to our school days._

"More than hate… it was jealousy. I desired to have parents as doting as Weasley's…" he trailed off, unable to look at Hermione. "I desired Potter's ability to make friends who would like me for _me_, not for my surname or riches. As for you… I desired your ability to have the top marks in class along with not caring what anybody said about you; from my prominent surname to my ridiculously blond hair, I reviled it all. I wanted it so badly… and if I couldn't have it, then I'd loathe and bully anybody who _did._ It was petty and low, I know… but it's all I knew to do. It was what I was _taught_ to do."

_She probably thinks I'm the worst right now. _

She was too quiet so he took a peek at her and felt his heart drop down to his gut. To Draco's immense surprise, her eyes were shining with unshed tears. He frowned and leaned closer to her.

"What's wrong, Granger?" he asked her urgently, shaking her shoulder gently.

And even with that small gesture, a delicious warm jolt ran through his body.

"It makes sense," she whispered, swallowing thickly.

"What does?" he asks, perplexed.

"It explains perfectly your attitude towards us. I'm sorry, Mal—_Draco. _I'm so sorry."

He blinked in confusion but felt something tug at his chest when she spoke his given name; possibly for the first time ever. Soon she heaved a great sigh, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

_Merlin… is this what heartbreak feels like? Watching someone you care about cry and not being able to do anything about it? I feel so… helpless._

She, however, wiped them away as soon as they appeared and gave him a mortified look.

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…"

"No, no… it's okay. Certainly not the first time I've seen you shed a tear or two" he told her quietly, taking a gulp of his drink.

(flashback)

_Draco had parted ways with Pansy Parkinson before the Yule Ball ended, having claimed that she didn't feel well after _he turned down her less than decorous invitation to continue the party in her dorm_. He had been strutting along the Entrance Hall when he spotted none other than a beautified Hermione Granger, tossing her shoes away one by one and massaging her feet. He smirked, never one to miss an opportunity to antagonize her._

"_Well, hello Granger. Shoes too small for you?" he snickered. _"Or did that oaf Krum step on your toes one time too many?"__

_**Is that the best I can come up with? Come on now, Draco! You can do better than that! Hit her where it hurts most. She's obviously upset with either ol' Scarhead or the Weasel. I'm betting it's Weasley since she's usually on the outs with him.**_

_She, however, didn't respond. Draco frowned, _not used to being ignored and shuffled closer to her, _curiosity taking over. He was taken aback when he noticed the tear tracks on her face and the way she was sniffling softly. He grimaced and leaned back, unsure of what to do in such situation._

"_I'm surprised you let the Weasel get to you, Granger," he spoke, unable to control himself._

_She looked up at him then, dark eyes flashing with anger and resentment that only seemed to be intensified by her tears._

"_Oh, sod off, Malfoy!" she snarled. "_Like you genuinely_ give a damn about Mudblood Granger!"_

_Draco cringed and took a step back, surprised at her cursing _and couldn't even bring himself to come up with a proper taunt about her filthy mouth.__

"_I don't, actually. But you look so pathetic that I can't even help myself," he sneered, continuing to feel as if he was doing it halfheartedly._

_She let out a loud huff but Draco couldn't help but notice the way the tears continued to trickle silently down her cheeks._

_**I may not care, but it seems wrong, somehow. She's usually so full of fire and sass… it doesn't help that she looks beautiful. For someone like her, anyway.**_

"_He's probably just jealous. Weasel needs to learn to man up or learn how not to be a whiny little tosser," he said simply, __brushing off imaginary dust from his sleeve._

_She glared up at him but refrained from answering._

"_Well?" he asked impatiently._

"'_Well' __**what**__, Malfoy?" she snapped._

"_Aren't you going to thank me?" he gasped, dripping sarcasm._

"_I'm going to thank you by not punching you again," she murmured, reaching out to grab her shoes._

_Draco chuckled despite himself, feeling _inexplicably_ proud of Granger._

"_That's just your m__isplaced anger talking. I think it's Weasley you want to pummel, not me. I'm much too good-looking," he stated pompously, _smirking.__

_She snorted, rolling her eyes._

"_Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, Malfoy."_

_She stood and they observed each other contemplatively for a few moments._

"_You should definitely stop crying. Adding red and puffy eyes on top of your less than stellar looks won't increase your chances of getting another date."_

"_And he's back. Thank goodness, you had me genuinely terrified for a moment there," she mumbled derisively, _wiping the tears from her face.__

_She watched him for a few more seconds and started to turn around to go up the stairs when Draco called her._

"_What do you want __**now**__, Malfoy? I'm exhausted and I want to go to bed…"_

"_You look good. You know, for someone like you," he told her, giving her the briefest of smiles before turning on his heel and sauntering away._

_**Keep cool, Draco, you lady-killer. She's probably swooning over you right in this moment. Or rolling her eyes at me.**_

_But instead, Hermione watched him go with a funny little smile on her face, wondering just what the heck had happened to Draco Malfoy that caused him to be nice to her. Well, nice for someone like him, anyway._

(end flashback)

Draco shook himself out of his reverie and turned to look at Hermione, who in turn was watching him. She looked down at her glass immediately, swirling around the amber liquid that remained.

"The first time you called me 'Mudblood' was the worst. You attacked the very thing I couldn't control about myself… that's why your later taunts about my looks didn't completely faze me."

Draco swallowed thickly as red-hot shame burned through his veins.

"You attacked me first," he muttered, brushing his fingertip along the rim of the glass.

"I did _what_? I think you've lost your marbles, Malfoy," she scoffed, shaking her head.

"You did! Not my fault you don't want to remember, Granger. You'd said something about how the Gryffindor's made the quidditch team on pure talent, unlike me, who, if memory serves, 'had to buy his way in'," he said, scowling at the innocent glass before him.

"And you _didn't_?"

"Of course not! I caught the Snitch every single time during tryouts! And since I always complained to father about you lot's flying skills, he decided to shut me up by buying us all brand new brooms," he mumbled, feeling his face burn with humiliation.

"I suppose that makes sense…" Hermione reasoned after a moment's silence.

"Never thought of that, did you? The Slytherin just _had_ to cheat his way into something he always loved," he said sarcastically, scoffing under his breath.

"I'm sorry, alright? We all make mistakes," she told him timidly.

"Some of us make more mistakes than others. Then there's mistakes that could be more aptly described as colossal fuck-ups," he sighed, ordering a shot.

"Malfoy… Draco. Maybe you should calm down with the liquor," she told him uneasily.

"Like you care," he murmured under his breath.

"But I do care," she spoke softly.

"You… do?" he asked, hardly daring to believe it.

"Of course, you're my employee," she answered briskly, straightening her posture.

Draco rolled his eyes and downed the shot, grimacing as the liquid burned its way down his throat.

"But… we also survived the war. And something big like that brings people together. Even people who have nothing in common, like us."

"Big whoop," he mumbled.

"Truth is… I wanted to talk to you after your trial. But Ron wouldn't let me," she frowned. "He held me back... _literally_. I wanted to comfort you since you looked so lost in that terrifying chair and recounting such horrors…"

He swallowed thickly as the memory of that particularly nasty moment came back to him.

"But you paused before walking out and looked at Harry and Ron before looking at me. In that simple look, I wanted to convey as much relief as possible… but I'm not sure you got it since you left just as soon as you glanced at me," she sighed, ordering a shot for herself.

"I felt something alright… Weasley's annoyance, Potter's indifference and your… your… whatever it was," he told her, running his fingers with frustration through his hair.

"Surely you mean my worry over you," she corrected, sputtering after she downed the shot.

"Right, sure. Listen, you should never try your hand at drinking games, you'd be lousy at them," he snickered, enjoying how her face turned a bright pink.

She glared at him but didn't pay any attention to his unsolicited advice.

"Why can't I care for you?" she demanded, prodding Draco's shoulder roughly.

Well, roughly for her anyway. He raised his eyebrow elegantly at her and stared down at her finger before looking back at her.

"It doesn't make sense," he shrugged.

"Just because you don't understand _why_ it doesn't mean it can't make sense," she told him passionately, prodding his side this time.

Draco let out a short burst of laughter, wrapping his arms around himself before straightening up, glaring at her.

"Bad! Bad Hermi-mione," he hiccuped, shaking his head drowsily.

She stared at him with disbelief.

"That's the first time you've called me by my name," she whispered, tentatively placing her hand on his shoulder.

"It's your name, isn't it?" he challenged, raising a fair brow.

She laughed softly and squeezed his shoulder gently before placing her hands in a safe place away from him.

_Is it me… or does my shoulder feel a bit warmer from her touch? It's probably the alcohol._

"Sure is, _Draco_."

"Merlin, what a ridiculous name," he scoffed. "Of all the names to choose for your firstborn son, you think 'Hmm… Draco Lucius Malfoy. Nope, doesn't sound ridiculous at all nor will it warrant any taunting or mental scarring.'"

Hermione giggled softly, obviously enjoying something unknown to him.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"You are."

"Oh, yeah… I'm a riot. Just as hilarious as you caring about me."

"I _do_ care about you, Draco. Have you been so neglected that you don't believe when someone tells you that?" she whispered worriedly, leaning closer to him.

"You have no good reason to. Weasley would undoubtedly hate it…"

She looked down uncomfortably as Draco caught on.

"Wait a moment… he _doesn't know._ Weasley doesn't bloody know. This is too precious," he sneered. "I wonder how the mighty Weasley will react when he finds out his girlfriend cares for another bloke!"

"Oh, don't flatter yourself, Malfoy! I don't care for you _that way_ at all! As a matter of fact, I could compare this to taking in a stray and caring for it!" she snapped.

He straightened up to his full height and glared fiercely at Hermione, hearing his heartbeat pounding away in his ears.

"I'm hardly a bloody cat," he hissed, standing up and snatching his things. "Thanks for the free drinks, _boss_."

* * *

Thanks for reading! Have a wonderful day. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to the wonderful JK Rowling. :)

* * *

Ron traipsed along Diagon Alley, peering down at the long and detailed list his mum had given him. He could almost hear her voice in his head, urging him not to forget a single thing and not to dawdle (_as if I were a little boy_, he thought to himself with an eyeroll). He jammed the list absentmindedly into his pocket when something out of the corner of his eye caught his interest. There was a group of boys huddled around the display window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, talking excitedly amongst themselves. Curiosity piqued, Ron crossed the street and felt his jaw drop as he stared at what they were all gawking at.

"It's the Lightning Bolt X!"

"I've never seen anything more beautiful in my entire life!"

"It's the latest and greatest, from the makers of the Firebolt."

"Yeah, but the Lightning Bolt X obviously outstrips the Firebolt!"

"Did you know they named it in honor of Harry Potter's scar?"

"Yeah, isn't it wicked? Harry Potter's _so_ cool!"

Ron frowned at the boys, resisting the urge to scold them.

_If they'd just turn around they'd see Harry bleeding Potter's best friend standing behind them. Bloody kids..._

Despite his less than pleasant thoughts, he continued listening to them still.

"Have you read about all the charms it has installed? No? Well, it has a built-in Impervius charm so that the weather won't affect you, no matter if it's thundering or hailing…"

His resentfulness long forgotten, Ron could almost feel himself drooling over the broomstick. It was a beautiful sight indeed. The handle was crafted from the finest polished marble (and it too, was charmed so its rider would never lose their grip) and the twigs were a handsome dark maple.

_A broomstick like that would certainly be costly. I'd probably have to save for a few months if I wanted one… which I don't. Not really. But it __**would**__ come in handy for work… maybe I could get Harry to buy one as well._

Ron was still staring dreamily at the object of everyone's yearning when someone bumped into him.

"Oops, sorry mate. Hey, Weasley! Fancy meeting you here!" cried the wizard.

Ron was startled out of his daydream and shook himself, turning to look at whoever addressed him.

"Hey, Collins! How are you? Heard about you lot's party last night. How'd it go?"

"'Party' would be an overstatement but it sure was fun. Granger makes us work hard, but she was more than happy to make it up to us by buying us round after round last night," he chuckled.

Ron chuckled and nodded, knowing exactly how overzealous Hermione could be.

"How come you didn't go, Weasley?"

Ron frowned slightly and gave Collins a bemused look.

"Well, firstly, I don't work in your department…"

"C'mon! You're the boss's other half! Surely she would have invited you?"

Ron started to feel cold dread travel throughout his body as he forced a smile at the wizard.

"She didn't, not really. She said she wanted to bond with the department to show that she knows how to have fun too," he said, reciting her words to him.

Collins raised his brows with surprise.

"Far as I know, she didn't really do any rounds. She remained seated at the bar until she left."

"Oh? Was she sitting alone?" he asked hoping he sounded casual as he gripped his hands behind him anxiously.

"No, she spent time talking to Malfoy," Collins said, dropping his voice to a whisper.

Ron froze, his heart beating frantically as he struggled to regain control of his emotions.

"Did they… look very friendly?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

Collins frowned pensively, tilting his head slightly.

"Not really but I got the impression that it was only them in their own little bubble," he shrugged. "They seemed oblivious to the world around them."

Ron gritted his teeth together, feeling white hot fury running through his veins.

_I knew it! I knew it! Why would she lie to me?_

Collins prattled on about something else but Ron couldn't bother listening. When the wizard bid him goodbye, Ron waved distractedly.

He felt numb, the list that his mum had given him now long forgotten.

_Why? Could she… possibly… care for him? She always speaks so highly of him. 'Diligent this, efficient that.' Not to mention the compassionate look in her eyes when she does. Or the way she tries to push me away when he's around. No, it can't be. It's must be my mind playing dirty tricks on me… but the evidence can't be ignored. It's clear as day. I need to act and act fast before I lose her. _I will _**_not _**_lose her. Especially not to the likes of him.__

With that scathing thought in mind, Ron Disapparated from Diagon Alley and Apparated outside his childhood home.

_Mum's going to kill me for coming home empty-handed, but this is so much more important than her silly errands._

"Mum? Mum? You here?" he called, walking restlessly from the kitchen to the living room.

"Oh, Ron, you're back so soon! But…" she trailed off, looking at him sternly as she took notice of his empty hands.

"Mum, I'm going to need Great Aunt Muriel's ring," he told her gravely, stepping closer to her before she could get shirty with him.

She watched him in confusion as his words sunk in. Her eyes widened and she gasped loudly, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! Are you serious?" she asked, a glimmer of hope shining in her brown eyes.

Ron tried his best to work his mouth into a genuine smile and shrugged a shoulder.

"Dead serious, mum. I think it's past time I make an honest woman out of Hermione," he chuckled humorlessly.

Mrs. Weasley giggled like a schoolgirl and wrapped her arms around her lanky son, tears of happiness leaking from her eyes.

"Oh, _Ronnie_! I'm so happy for you! How and when are you going to do it?" she cried, releasing him immediately.

Ron thought quickly as she motioned for him to follow her.

"I was thinking that we could all get together for supper. I could ask her then, in front of my family. Tomorrow. The faster I propose, the faster she's my wife," he said, smiling shrewdly.

"Oh, Ronnie! That would be perfect! I bet you she's going to love it! I'll definitely have to start on the menu right away. Everything has to be perfect for my Ronnie!" she trilled as she searched for the ring.

Ron felt his anger abate when his mum handed him the velvet box. He opened the lid slowly, pulse quickening as he stared at the ring that would mark Hermione unequivocally as his. Nestled in the black silk was a gorgeous and antique platinum ring. In the center lay a hefty diamond, the shine undisturbed by the years. There seemed to be something engraved at the sides but he didn't pay further attention. Snapping the box shut, Ron looked at his mum, who was beaming at him with happiness.

"Mum, not a word to _anybody_, alright? I want this to be the best kept secret in the Weasley family, even if it's for a day, okay? I want this to come off as a complete surprise for Hermione," he breathed, holding onto the box tightly.

"Oh, anything you say, Ron! My lips are sealed, as the Muggles say!" she giggled once more as they made their way back downstairs.

"Thanks, mum…" he nodded appreciatively.

"Are you going to ask her before or after dinner?" Molly queried, peering up at her youngest son curiously.

"Er, I'm not really sure yet…"

"Well, you best think about it now!" she told him firmly, frowning at him.

"Don't worry, mum. I'll plan every single in detail," he smiled grimly at her.

"Oh, Ron. I don't know why it took you so long! It's been five years already. You're so lucky that she loves you and that she's a loyal woman. What if she had broken up with you or something? The horror!" she gasped, clutching at her chest.

Ron rolled his eyes at his overly dramatic mother.

"Mum, _please_. But yes… aren't I lucky that she's so loyal and loving?" he asked, letting his cynicism sweep over him. "Well, I better send her an owl now so she won't make any other plans…"

Mrs. Weasley kissed her son on each cheek and patted his head lovingly before disengaging himself from her. He sighed with relief, unsure of just how much longer he could keep this charade of happiness going. He all but ran to his room, shutting his door tightly behind him and searching for a quill and parchment.

_Might as well send one out to everybody. Let's see… Bill and Fleur, Percy and Audrey, Angelina and George and Harry and Ginny. Charlie, of course. If I had any excuse to invite Malfoy, I would. I'd love nothing more than to see his pointy face as I ask Hermione to marry me. Hang on…_

Ron was about to dip his quill into his inkwell when a thought struck him.

"Why would Malfoy _even_ be interested in Hermione? He's always belittled her and called her names. Even he himself admitted to not wanting anything to do with her. Maybe I'm making a huge mistake…" he frowned, biting his lip.

The marriage idea wasn't looking so clever to Ron anymore.

_Still, I can't forget the way Hermione's eyes flash with compassion for Malfoy when she mentions him. And the way that he always makes an excuse to interrupt us while we're together. I wouldn't put it past him as simply being a pain in the arse... nope, I'm not willing to risk it. As the Muggles say, where there's smoke, there's fire. And I love Hermione, I really do. I was going to propose to her eventually anyway… I'm just saving us years of trouble and frustration. This is for the best. It has to be. I'm not going to let Malfoy beat me this time. Hermione is mine and mine alone. Weasleys don't share, especially not with Malfoys._

Ron frowned, running his fingers in frustration through his flaming red curls and tugged on them.

_But she as good betrayed me! Bloody hell, she lied to me about Malfoy not attending! Granted, I haven't seen her yet... would she even tell me that the prat went after all and that she spent the whole time by his side? Of course, now that she's got a Weasley she's got to mess around with a Malfoy? I can't believe that Hermione, __**my**__ Hermione would do this to me… nope, I'm doing the right thing. Once she's got this ring on her finger, she'll be all mine._

Ron sent off the letters with Pig, who had been flying around excitedly at being needed to do a job. He smiled grimly and shook himself, knowing he had to plan thoroughly so that everything went off without a hitch.

"Hermione Weasley… I quite like the sound of that," he murmured to himself, gripping the velvet box tightly in his hand.

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read, everybody! I hope everybody has a happy hump day. ^_^


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione sat herself down in front of her mirror, idly running her fingers through her now smooth and shining tresses. Still, she could see the ghost of her bushy mane in her mind's eye. With a taut smile, she recalled the taunts and mocking she received over her hair.

"_Hey there, bushy!"_

"_Granger, have all the good grades your head gotten so big? Oh, wait, that's just your hair!_

She straightened her posture and shook her head, as if to dispel the unpleasant memories. Letting out a tense breath, she brushed her hair behind her shoulders, the soft strands reaching halfway down her back.

_I wonder why Ron asked me to go over to dinner. He was extremely adamant that I attend after I tried to explain that I needed to look over the newest Goblin liaison contract that I had Malfoy to revise for me. Of course, once I mentioned Malfoy was involved he turned even more obstinate. Could… could Ron be jealous of Malfoy? No, that's ridiculous. This is __**Ron **__I'm talking about. Ron knows I love him, no matter how swamped I become with work. He should be more than aware of how dedicated I am to my job at this point in life, just as much as he is to his. Besides, he absolutely loathes Malfoy while Malfoy… is fairly indifferent to him. With the exception of when Ron's in my office, giving his best effort to annoy him. But Malfoy always stays cool as an ice cube, smirk in place. How does he do it? Back in Hogwarts, he'd take every single opportunity given to insult Ron but now…_

Hermione frowned and forced herself focus on the task of putting mascara on; she'd hate to gouge an eye out no thanks to her lack of concentration. She coated her light brown, naturally curled lashes with a light coat of mascara. She felt silly the way her mouth gaped when she did, but she came to love the ritual of putting on makeup. Not that she needed a lot, anyway. She preferred to let her skin breathe and usually only bothered with the whole works for special occasions. She dabbed a pink cream blush on her cheeks, blending it out methodically with her fingers so she wouldn't have bright pink spots on her cheeks.

_Oh, if only Lavender and Parvati could see me now. They were always urging me to borrow their makeup. Needless to say, they'd be proud of me._

Hermione has always considered herself as a person who liked to master anything and everything she set her mind to. That included the girly things she neglected to pay attention to back in Hogwarts, such as makeup and shopping. She had considered the makeup part to be simple enough; she spent most of her time in Muggle department stores. To be more specific, beauty counters. The amount of products that catered to make a woman look more beautiful both fascinated and puzzled her.

After all, Hermione spent most of her youth fighting her roommates, choosing to focus on her schoolwork instead and helping Harry fight Voldemort. She grew up being a tomboy and anything having to do with her two male best friends (who often arrived to their common room dripping in muck and sweat) didn't particularly bother her. But Hermione was a full-grown woman and knew it was high time to learn all about beauty and to get over her aversion to it and any other "girly" things.

She added a bit of tinted lip balm to her lips and stood up, smoothing down her bright floral knee-length skirt and picking off a piece of lint from her cream split neck blouse.

Hermione grew to enjoy shopping (for both clothes and beauty items), often ordering dresses from Muggle catalogs as she took bubble baths. Not that she was able to do it often, but once in a blue moon she'd get all her work done up and would head home to relax in a sumptuous bubble bath and a glass of wine. Of course, that is something she would never confess to anybody willingly.

Slipping her feet into a pair of nude flats, she twisted a front section of hair and pinned it back, pleased at her reflection. She daubed her favorite vanilla-scented perfume on her wrists and neck, setting down the bottle carefully on her vanity and returned to looking at herself once more.

"Who would have ever thought that know-it-all, bushy-haired Granger would ever turn out like this?" she whispered to herself.

_I'm sure I would have gotten teased less often. I might have had a boyfriend or two, even…_

"What does it matter now, anyway? I'm still the same ol' Hermione Granger… but with more appealing looks."

Her eyes glanced at the clock in her room and she whirled around with a gasp.

_Is that the time? I dawdled too much… better get my things and Apparate to Ron's house._

With a flick of her wand, Hermione concentrated on the three D's and soon found herself staring at The Burrow. Smiling fondly, she made her way down the trail (relieved that she'd forgone wearing heels) and raised her hand to knock on the door.

She could hear voices and scuffling going on in the inside of the house and she smiled amusedly as Ginny practically ripped the door opening, grinning widely at her friend.

"Hermione! What a pleasure to see you! Come in, come in… but I'm sure you know you don't need to knock," she scolded playfully, pressing a kiss to Hermione's cheek.

"I know, Gin… but it feels wrong somehow," she muttered, following her red-haired best friend across the living room and into the kitchen.

"How have you been? Ron's mentioned that work's been keeping you busy."

"Definitely, but now with Malfoy as my assistant, it honestly feels like the workload has lightened. Kingsley couldn't have found me a better person for the job," Hermione told her, gripping her purse tightly, somewhat nervously.

Ginny froze and turned around, frowning at her friend.

"Wait… _what?_ Malfoy works for you?" she asked with incredulity.

"He works _with_ me, Gin," Hermione corrected gently.

"So that's the job that he was researching when you ran into him?" Ginny asked, eyes narrowed with mild distrust.

"Well, now that you mention it… yes. He is very well-versed with the cases and petitions that have cropped up… and good at referencing old ones, why didn't I think of it before? And it makes sense, Malfoy _did_ have the best marks after me…" Hermione mused.

Ginny snorted and rolled her eyes, an action that reminded her of Ron.

"Hermione, has it occurred to you that Malfoy set himself up to work for you?"

This time it was Hermione who snorted.

"I think not. Besides, he has been perfectly polite with me, not once disrespecting me or my decisions."

"Are you really sure it's Malfoy? Maybe the body snatchers got to him…"

"Ginny, _really_. Ron is also stubbornly set on thinking that Malfoy has a grand scheme tucked under his robes… you two must be related," Hermione teased, gently nudging her side.

"Some things are hard to forget, Hermione. I know he gave you a terrible time back in school…"

"Ginny, I know. But I'm a firm believer that people can change. Even people that were formerly malicious, cowardly—"

"Bullying, cold, pompous, narcissistic," Ginny interrupted loudly. "But I happen to trust your judgment, Hermione; if you say he's changed then I believe you. Still, if you ever need someone who knows a mean bat bogey hex…"

The redhead winked at her friend, causing Hermione to wrap her arm around Ginny's freckled shoulders.

"So who else is here?"

"Just about everybody," Ginny answered.

Hermione frowned and something that felt like suspicion formed in the back of her mind.

"Hermione, my goodness! It feels like I haven't seen you in ages, dearie!" Mrs. Weasley cried out, entering the kitchen at that precise moment.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione cried as the woman took her into her arms in a tight hug.

Once she pulled away, Hermione massaged her sides subtly.

"How are you?" the Weasley matriarch asked fondly, waving her wand at the oven.

"Good, busy with work as always," she answered, knowing better than to mention Malfoy to the Weasley matriarch.

"That's always good. Ron has been incredibly busy too, thank Merlin. Anyway, why don't you two go and head out back? Everybody's out there already. Dinner should be ready soon," she smiled with a twinkle in her eye.

She nodded wordlessly, the feeling at the back of her head growing heavier.

"Ginny, why is everybody here?" Hermione asked out of the corner of her lips.

"Just you wait," she chirped, a twinkle appearing in her eye as well.

_Uh-oh, this can't be good. Could they be scheming something? Why does everybody have to be here?_

She swallowed nervously as Ginny gave her a friendly shove in the back, causing Hermione to stumble into the backyard with everybody's eyes on her. She gave a little wave as she walked slowly toward the group, Percy and George rising from their seats to welcome her.

After having kissed them all on the cheek, Ron stood before her. She blinked at him, looking at him up and down. He wore a button down white shirt that was (surprisingly) tucked into grey slacks and a grey plaid vest, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. His feet were clad in black shoes and Hermione couldn't quite help but raise her eyebrows at him.

"Oh, just… y'know, feeling a bit fancy is all," he muttered, taking her into his arms for a hug.

She frowned as she wrapped her arms around him, feeling puzzled.

_But Ron absolutely __**abhors**__ getting dressed up. I practically have to dress him myself for special occasions…_

She froze in his arms as it began to dawn on her what was going on. He pulled away and looked at her curiously but all she could do was smile numbly at him, clenching her jaw tightly.

"You look absolutely beautiful, Mione," he muttered, brushing a strand of hair away.

She felt herself relax as he cupped her face gently, his sparkling blue eyes peering earnestly into hers.

"I could say the same for you. You even got a haircut," she smiled, gently brushing the nape of his flame hair.

He chuckled as he stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"Well, you _had_ been telling me that I needed to get it cut," he reminded her with a silly smile.

"I know that. But since when do you ever listen to me?" she teased, loving the way the sun brought out the strawberry tones in his hair.

Ron grinned at her, causing her heart to thump faster.

_This is good, this is what I need… with Ron constantly on my back about Malfoy, I can't appreciate all the little quirks I love about him._

Someone behind her cleared his throat loudly, making Hermione laugh.

"Harry James Potter," she said, turning around swiftly.

He grinned at her, holding his arms out for a hug. She gladly hugged him and noticed that Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley come out of the house, the former waving at her enthusiastically. She waved back as she pulled away from Harry and suddenly noticed that everybody was peering at her rather excitedly.

Ron took hold of her hand, giving it a firm squeeze, causing a spike of dread to run up Hermione's back.

"Hello everybody and thanks for coming here on such short notice," he said, smiling nervously at his family. "I just wanted to take this time to stop and smell the roses, as the Muggles say."

Everybody chuckled at this, turning to look at their significant others.

"I don't think I tell Hermione enough that I love her. Or that I appreciate her, for that matter. She's an incredible woman, a woman that I have been lucky to call mine for years. She's smart, she's beautiful, she's moral… but best of all, she loves _me,_" Ron spoke, a tense edge to his voice as he turned to look at Hermione.

Hermione, who at this point was starting to feel the cold spread all throughout her body despite the delicious warm rays of the sun that fell upon.

"Hermione Granger…" Ron spoke, eyes blazing as he lowered himself on one knee, "I want to spend every minute of every day with you, for the rest of my life. I don't want anything to come between us and I certainly don't want there a chance to be. I want to love you, honor you, and respect you until we grow old and grey. So will you please do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Hermione stood frozen, looking down into Ron's serious blue eyes, the sounds of cooing and happy shouts disappearing on her suddenly deaf ears. Ron gulped and she could see his Adam's apple bob jerkily as he gripped her hand a little tighter, the wrinkle between his brows getting deeper the longer she took to respond.

_Why am I stalling? I love Ron, this is what I've wanted ever since I was thirteen, is it not? So why do I feel like part of me wants to snatch my hand again and Disapparate out of here?_

The breeze ruffled Ron's flaming hair and in that moment, Hermione saw a much younger Ron; a Ron who was scared out of his wits but whose eyes still held the glimmer of hope that his love would be enough for her. She felt her heartbeat thunder in her ears as her heart started to thaw in her chest. Swallowing thickly, she gave his hand a squeeze as she let out a breath of air.

"Yes," she heard herself say.

And for one awful, confusing moment, Hermione could almost swear that she saw a haunting pair of grey eyes surveying her coolly instead of Ron's bright blue eyes.

Just as soon as Hermione said yes, Ron leapt up and gathered her into his arms as cheers and whistles erupted around them. Hermione stared blankly at the sky, everything around her a blur. Ron finally pulled away, a euphoric grin taking over his face as he took out a small velvet box, opening it slowly. He took the ring and grabbed Hermione's hand, slowly slipping the ring onto her left ring finger.

"Ouch, Ron… wait. I think it's a bit too small," Hermione mumbled, a tiny crease forming between her brows as Ron continued to jam the ring on her finger.

"Ah, there we go now, perfect fit," he announced, showing off Hermione's hand.

She pressed her lips into a line, not wanting to complain.

_It really is a beautiful ring… I wonder who it belonged to. Doesn't matter now, I guess… it's mine now. Hermione Weasley. It has a… familiar sound._

Hermione looked up and watched how Ron's family attacked him in a hug, making her feel alone. She then felt somebody wrap their arm around her shoulder and she turned to see Harry giving her a kind smile.

"Everything's going to be okay, Hermione," he nodded, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

She felt her lips twitch up in response, a sense of reassurance flowing through her body.

_It's going to be okay… everything is going to be okay. It has to be._


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Draco felt his old anxiety begin to flare as he watched his emerald green tie loop and knot by magic. He and Hermione hadn't parted on especially good terms and he was concerned how it would affect their relationship.

_Ha! What a sorry excuse of a relationship. An even better term would be 'working partnership.' That's not quite accurate, though. Despite our past… differences, we've gotten along surprisingly well. Who am I kidding? The only reason we didn't get along was because of me and my prejudices. All she was doing back then was defending herself against a cruel, bigoted arsehole. Can hardly blame the witch for punching me, I honestly deserved that. But if I'm truly honest with myself… that is when I started seeing her in a different light. Nobody had ever dared lay a hand on me but she just didn't care! I couldn't help but feel a grudging respect toward her that slowly began to grow._

He chuckled, remembering her words before receiving the face socking of his life.

"_You foul, loathsome evil little cockroach!"_

_But now… I'd even dare say that Granger's not so bad to hang around. Of course, she has infuriating moments where I want to bang my head __**hard**__ against something. Other than that, it's almost… pleasant. Who would have thought that I'd reach a point where I could joke with Granger? The way her lips tremble, followed by a lip bite before finally releasing that warm laughter of hers. It's rather… endearing, if I say so myself._

Draco's hand froze in midair, just as soon as he was about to comb his hair to the side.

_Merlin, did I just think that Granger is cute? I suppose she isn't hard on the eyes. She doesn't slap on the war paint as most women do and wears clothes that flatter her wonderfully. Who would have thought that she had such a body underneath those itchy jumpers and robes? If only she didn't exhibit her questionable taste in men so flagrantly. Honestly, Weasley of all people. She could do loads better than that. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't be embarrassed at being seen by her side. Maybe if there was a way I could change her mind… no, I don't want to resort to skullduggery. All of that is in the past now. She may believe in second chances but all of my hard work would undoubtedly crumble right before my eyes if I step out of line. I best continue working hard and charming her with my smiles. Even __**she**__ wouldn't be able to refuse the way I often catch her staring at me or the way her cheeks redden when caught._

He smiled genuinely at his reflection and slipped his pressed robes on carefully.

_Today's going to be a good day, I can feel it._

He quickly grabbed his briefcase and wand, Apparating to the Ministry and heading to his office. With a flick of his wand, he drew the curtains open, letting the (fake) bright sunshine stream in. He placed his briefcase on his desk, eyeing the small stack of owls waiting for him. He started to reach for the first one when a loud, squawking noise caught his attention. He frowned and turned to give the door an indignant look when the sound rang through the air once more. Draco sighed, unable to shake the tense feeling pooling in his gut despite having thought it would be a good day.

He sauntered to the door, opening it in a fluid motion as he watched the secretary grinning widely at Hermione. He cleared his throat and both of them turned to look at him. Draco surmised Hermione must have been holding her hands up because she let them drop to her desk with a forceful thud when she spotted him.

"Good morning, ladies," he smiled suavely as he leaned against the door frame.

"M-Morning Mr. Malfoy," Olivia, their secretary, stammered.

"Olivia, could you be a dear and bring me today's Prophet, please? Oh, and a cup of coffee would be much appreciated. Actually, leave them in my office. Thank you," he spoke smoothly as he looked into her plain brown eyes.

She turned a bright puce and with a last smile at Hermione, walked away, closing the door behind her.

_Perfect._

"Granger, good morning."

She gave him a peculiar look as he swaggered towards her desk.

"Good morning, Malfoy. In high spirits, are we? You usually wait until you've had your third cup of coffee before deigning me withyour presence," she said, giving him a playful smile.

_She's noticed! Well, of course she has, you dolt, don't flatter yourself... it's impossible to miss the frown that graces your face when you haven't. She sure doesn't miss a thing._

"But today is such a good day," he smiled, flopping elegantly into a chair.

She raised her eyebrows before looking away and mumbling something under her breath.

"Pardon?" he asked, straightening up as he looked at her inquisitively.

She looked at him for a moment too long before taking off her blazer and neatly hanging it off the back of her chair.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing at all," she said, giving her head a small shake, causing her shining tresses to bounce. "Hmm… some habits are hard to lose, aren't they?"

He arched a pale eyebrow at her questioningly.

"Your Slytherin green tie, I mean."

He chuckled softly as he raised his nimble fingers to gently stroke the silk.

"I'm afraid you're completely right. Need to keep up my house pride," he smirked.

She smiled at him but suddenly, as though a thought had struck her, looked away from him.

"I've been seeing you wear green for ages, I really shouldn't be terribly surprised that the color grew on you," she commented, looking at his tie once more. "Besides, it looks good on you."

Draco felt his cheeks color slightly as she averted her gaze once more.

_Gain control of the situation, you tosser! Do it now before you come off as weak!_

"Yes, I've been told that quite often," he remarked, giving her a lazy smirk.

She pressed her lips together, giving him her best scathing look in a weak attempt to conceal the pink blush that tinged her cheeks.

"Well, aren't you humble?" she murmured, running a distracted hand through her sleek curls.

He laughed sincerely, closing his eyes for a moment and letting the sensation take over.

_Yes, feels so good to be happy, doesn't it? What's even more amazing is that it's caused by her._

He opened his eyes and found her eyeing him rather curiously.

"You sound and look like Draco Malfoy, but you sure don't act like him," she said, resting her elbows on her desk and leaning forward, pressing her chin against the back of her hand.

Draco licked his lips and felt his face turn hot, unable to look away from her molten toffee stare.

"I told you, Granger… turned over a new leaf," he spoke softly.

She smiled at him, a real, warm smile that sent shivers up his spine.

"I'm truly glad, Malfoy," she nodded.

He felt the corners of his lips lift up in a smile, his heartbeat hammering away as they watched each other.

_Say something, anything! Quick, you prat!_

"So… erm…" he said, clearing his throat.

She jumped, shaking her head slightly as she clasped her hands together. In doing that, something shiny in her left hand caught his attention and almost gasped when it clicked in his head what it was. She noticed what his eyes were fixed on and slowly looked down at her hand, cheeks ablaze.

"What… what is that?" he croaked.

"Well, it's… erm, it's a ring, you see. An engagement ring," she clarified quickly.

He looked up at her eyes, feeling all the blood drain from his face in horror.

"I'm engaged!" she cried, forcing a smile.

"Engaged?" he asked blankly.

"As in _to be married?_"

"Married?" he asked numbly.

"Yes, it's something that couples who love each other do," she says slowly, as if explaining to a child.

Draco swallowed heavily, body gone cold.

"So I guess Weasley finally manned up."

"It _was_ rather unexpected…" she trailed off, frowning slightly.

He could only nod, so he did.

_Retreat to your office, Malfoy. Now. You're fighting a lost battle._

He cleared his throat once more, jumping up on his feet.

"Well, there's plenty of work to do. I should get going now."

She nodded, unable to look at him and so he walked off, giving her a lingering look before doing so. He was about to go into his office when she finally turned to look at him.

"Malfoy, wait!"

He turned around a little too quickly for his taste, pressing his hand against the doorframe to steady himself.

"Yes?"

"Aren't you going to congratulate me?"

Draco's brow quirked.

"Congratulate you?"

"Well, yes…"

"I'm afraid I wouldn't entirely mean it," he told her quietly before turning around closing the door behind him.

He pressed his back against the door, leaning his head backward as he screwed his eyes tightly. He straightened up and let out a tense whoosh of air, gritting his teeth together before walking back to his desk. He eyed the coffee and newspaper, wanting nothing more than to sweep them off his desk but managed to contain himself.

_So much for fooling myself into thinking it would be a good day._

He took out his wand and pointed it at his coffee. Muttering a spell under his breath, he soon saw the spirals of heat coming off it. He smiled grimly, thinking that there was at least one thing going right for him. He turned to his stack of owls and thumbed through them. The handwriting on the last one caught his immediate attention.

_Mother._

He practically ripped the envelope open and unfolded the letter quickly, eager to see what his mother had written for him.

_Dearest Draco,_

_I read in The Prophet that you started working at the Ministry under Hermione Granger. One would assume that an only son would tell his mother that, but no. I hope you've settled in well and that Miss Granger is treating you fairly. I don't really understand why you felt the need to get a job but no matter, I wholly support you.  
I went to visit your father last Saturday…_

His eyes skipped that portion; Draco found that he did not quite care how his father was doing.

_I'm sure you remember Daphne Greengrass, she was a schoolmate (and fellow Slytherin) of yours in Hogwarts. Her younger sister, Astoria, visited me last week. A young woman couldn't be any more charming, beautiful and witty if she tried! She asked about you, Draco and I sensed some interest on her part. Perhaps you could take her out? She's currently in Britain for business but she lives here in France…_

Draco sighed, rolling his eyes. But he did indeed remember Daphne and her younger sister. If memory served, Astoria had lustrous chocolate brown hair and intense green eyes. Of course, he couldn't forget those long legs that she was so fond of showing during Hogsmeade visits.

_Maybe it __**would**__ do me good to go out with her. Ah, I see that mother has included her address, should I wish to owl her. Wouldn't hurt to start dating, I suppose…_

His mother ended the letter by scolding him for not visiting her yet, but explained that she understood because he was probably busy with work. She hoped that he would visit on his next day off and Draco swore that he would in the letter he wrote back to her. After he signed his name, he hesitated as he reached for another piece of parchment.

_What do you have to lose? One dinner and you'll probably never see her again._

Draco dipped his quill into his blank ink, pondering what he could tell her.

_Dear Miss Greengrass,_

_My Mother has informed that you bestowed a visit upon her this past weekend. She was very delighted to have company and for that I must thank you. I must confess I haven't been a very good son since I've yet to visit her. I recently started a job with the Ministry and that has kept me up to my elbows with paperwork. I would, however, like to thank you by taking you out to dinner. Mother mentioned how you were currently in town and I'd love to nothing more than to dine with you. How does Saturday, 8pm sound? I know an exquisite little French restaurant that will positively change your life. It's called Chez Magic-fique. I'll be the handsome blond man dressed in black. Looking forward to seeing you after so many years._

_Most sincerely,  
Draco Malfoy_

He inspected his elegant script and smirked smugly.

_If this doesn't sweep her off her feet, I don't know what will._

He folded it neatly and placed it in an envelope. He stood up, striding to his door and poking his head out.

"Olivia, could you please owl these two letters out for me? Thank you very much," he smiled, winking at her.

He closed his door shut and sauntered back to his desk, feeling like a niffler who found gold. He soon heard a scream of happiness and his eyes went to the door between his and Hermione's office, causing his smile to falter.

_She must have showed the ring off to another desperate female. Fine, she can keep her bloody ring. At least I'll keep my dignity intact. Besides, why do __**I **__care if she's engaged to the Weasel? It's not like I particularly like her. Truth be told, I'm not sure __**what**__ I feel for her. It doesn't even matter now, anyway. She'll be married to Weasley soon enough and they'll undoubtedly be having a litter of children of their own. Oh, I shudder to think that he'll pass on his disastrous red hair. Poor children. On the other hand, if they had a father like me… wait, did I just think about having hypothetical children with Granger? No matter, this date with Astoria should definitely raise my spirits._

He heard some more giggling and Draco rolled his eyes, muttering a noise-blocking spell so he wouldn't have to put up with any more happy sounds coming from her office.

"Yippee-bloody-skippy," Draco murmured scornfully, turning to focus on work.

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read!


	9. Chapter 9

Posting this early since I'll be busy tomorrow.

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing.

* * *

Days had passed and Hermione still couldn't get his words out of her head.

"_I'm afraid I wouldn't entirely mean it."_

_Why wouldn't he mean it? I know he's not particularly fond of Ron… but that's no reason to not congratulate me, either. Besides, I thought we were friendly. Wouldn't he want to congratulate __**me**__?_

She scowled, standing in the middle of her closet, lost in thought.

Tonight she had a double date with Harry and Ginny. They were headed to a French restaurant that garnered great reviews since opening a few weeks back.

_My first date with Ron in ages and I don't know what to wear. I wonder what Ginny's wearing, maybe I could Floo her…_

She was about to turn around and get a hold of her future sister-in-law when a dress in the back of her closet caught her eye. Hermione reached for it, admiring the dress before smiling and gently rubbing the satiny material against her cheek.

_Yes, it's perfect. It might show off a little too much skin, but Merlin knows when we'll have another opportunity to go on a date with my fiancé before we get sucked into the wedding planning and naturally, work. Hmm how strange it is to call him that. I suppose I better get used to it… I might get a little too comfortable and have a difficult time calling him by the next one: husband._

For some reason, a shiver went through her body… and it wasn't one of happiness or longing.

_I'm supposed to be happy, glowing, in love. Why can't I muster enough energy to be at least one of those?_

She sighed, recalling how on her most recent visit Molly and Fleur Weasley took over the wedding preparations zealously. She handed over the task willingly, thanking them and telling them she was on the cusp of victory on her current werewolf rights case. Though this time, she had enough sense to leave the 'Draco Malfoy' part out of it. It seemed like the Weasley's weren't too fond of him and she couldn't really blame them. But couldn't they let bygones be bygones?

_I've scarcely seen Draco ever since he saw the ring… he's just been holed up in his office, only leaving to eat, have me sign or approve something, and in he goes again. For the life of me, I don't understand why he wouldn't mean a simple 'congratulations.' I'm not going to lie, I miss the easy chatter we had… but it's not like I can simply lure him out. I don't even know what's wrong with him! Malfoy, Malfoy… why are you such an enigma?_

She slipped her cotton robe off and blushed with pleasure as she looked at herself in the mirror, scantily clad in what could barely be passed off as 'undergarments.' She wore lacy, black lingerie; her bra was the balconet kind and it gave her breasts just the right amount of lift to create an enticing cleavage. Her cheeky knickers showed off her shapely bum thanks to the sheer material covering it and Hermione blushed deeper; she giggled and wiggled it for good measure.

_Honestly, stop horsing around, Hermione. You look good but that's no reason to arrive late. It's a shame that Ron and I haven't been intimate as of late… if anything could get his motors up and running, it would definitely be this. Still, nothing perks a girl right up better than knowing she's wearing naughty lingerie underneath her clothes._

She slipped her crimson dress on, pulling the zipper up delicately and smoothing out any strange lumps. Hermione grinned excitedly as she surveyed herself; the hemline fell a tiny bit below her fingers, showing off her toned legs. The dress had a square neckline and cap sleeves, the former which showed off a sliver of tempting cleavage. The dress clung to her figure, emphasizing the curves she had. Her eyes went to the faint scar which read 'Mudblood,' giving her pause for a moment.

_It's nothing to be ashamed of._

She drew herself taller and went to search for a pair of gold heels. She slid them on, quickly wrapping the ankle straps around her slim ankles and sliding the end through the buckle, securing it close. After magicking her hair into a low chignon with a few wisps loose, she focused on her makeup; some mascara, simple black liner that flicked out and crimson red lipstick was all she needed. They made her look smoldering and it fascinated her to see herself transformed into a femme fatale. With a few squirts of her favorite perfume and tossing her lipstick and necessities into her purse, she was ready to go. She grabbed her wand and was on the verge of Disapparating when she remembered she had forgotten to put her ring on.

_Oops! Ron wouldn't be very amused… as a matter of fact, I wouldn't doubt that this would start a row between us. As if we really need reasons to argue when we barely get a chance see each other. I'm so swamped with work and one would think he'd understand… but nope, just skulking around my office, making sure I'm not "spending any extra time with Malfoy." I really had no choice when I banned him from the level, I was barely getting any work done! Of course, I didn't tell him that Malfoy is going out of his way to cut any meetings with me short… why does it bother me anyway? It's for the best, especially seeing how I might be at a different department after the wedding._

She finally Disapparated and found herself face to face with Ginny, who was wearing a sparkling emerald dress that did wonders to her porcelain skin and red hair.

"Gin, you look gorgeous!" she squealed excitedly.

"No, you're the one who looks like a smoldering temptress! Just wait 'til my brother sees you, he won't be able to take his eyes – and hopefully hands – off of you!" she squealed in return.

"I bet Harry won't be able to take either off of you!" Hermione grinned, nudging her side.

Ginny giggled, brushing off Hermione's comment.

"By the way, where _are_ the gentlemen in question?" Hermione asked, looking around.

"Harry said they would arrive together. I believe they were getting ready at Grimmauld Place. Isn't that precious?" she snickered.

Hermione laughed and shrugged.

"Excuse me miss, but your table's ready," the hostess said, standing next to them.

"Should we really sit down without them?" Hermione asked, nibbling on her lip nervously.

"Stop that! You'll get lipstick on your teeth. And yes, it would serve them right for being late!"

"Oh, very well then. Maybe we could start out with a nice wine while we wait for them…"

"Yes! Sounds great. Two are missing from our party, but if you could please kindly direct them to our table once they arrive," Ginny said as the hostess motioned them to follow her.

"No problem, miss. Here we go. Your waiter will be along soon. Enjoy!" she chirped, smiling down at them.

Hermione looked around, stunned at what beautiful place the restaurant was. Chandeliers were hung everywhere, the prisms throwing rainbows on the plush carpet and walls. Their waiter soon approached them and Hermione was about to place an order for a glass of rose wine when a certain head of platinum blonde hair caught her attention.

"I can't believe it!" she gasped, trying not to goggle.

"What? What is it Hermione? Is it Harry and Ron? Merlin, are they getting a piece of my mind," the redhead murmured darkly.

"No, not that! Malfoy just arrived. Not only that, he's got a rather voluptuous witch on his arm!" Hermione whispered, craning her neck slightly to get a better view of where the hostess was leading them.

"Oooh!" Ginny cooed, turning to look at the pair. "I wonder if that's his girlfriend!"

"No, I don't think so. At least he's never mentioned having one to me," Hermione murmured, a small frown creasing her forehead.

Ginny raised a brow at her friend.

"Why would he tell _you_ that?"

Hermione flushed, dropping her eyes to the tabletop, which was covered in black satin.

"Well, we've gotten friendly, I suppose," she muttered, unable to look at Ginny.

"Hmm… who would have ever thought that you and Malfoy would become bosom buddies?" she snickered. "I guess he's not an insufferable git anymore, then?"

"He's not. He's very polite and gentlemanly. It's quite refreshing; Ronald could stand to take a few lessons from him."

Ginny snickered again.

"Don't let my dear ol' brother hear you say that, he would _absolutely_ go barking. So I guess you two have gotten pretty chummy, eh? Does he talk about his family?"

Hermione shook her head and nibbled on her lip again.

"Not really. I'm not too keen on meddling in his life, either."

"Yet you sound surprised and slightly disappointed to find out that he has a shag bunny," Ginny pointed out wisely.

Hermione felt her eyes bug out and shook her head, feeling a little more than agitated.

"Ginny, _please_. Why would I be disappointed? Besides, it's his business who he dates or… shags," she said, uttering the last word with a mix of disgust and shame, looking around timidly.

Ginny wiggled her brows provocatively at Hermione, undoubtedly having fun teasing her.

"C'mon, Hermione! It would make sense that you get a little attached to him," she stated clinically, taking a sip of her wine. "Also, his conduct impresses you while your fiancé's has been a little lackluster lately. It's alright. Ron may be my brother and I love him and I _know_ you love him… besides you're engaged, not dead! And I hate to admit it, but Malfoy is a _delectable_ specimen of a man."

"_Ginevra!" _Hermione hissed, glancing around hurriedly once more.

But her friend just laughed, sneaking a peek from the corner of her eyes to look at said gentleman and stopped.

"He's looking at you, Hermione! More like eye humping you," she giggled, taking another sip of wine.

"What? Nonsense, Ginevra," Hermione muttered nervously, turning slightly to look to her right.

Sure enough, Draco Malfoy was staring at her, a bowled over expression gracing his pale face. His lips were parted in surprise, his pale eyebrows high on his forehead while his eyes practically jutted out of their sockets as he stared intently at Hermione.

She felt herself blush deeply (_I'm sure my face matches my dress now, great_) and offered him a tentative little smile before looking away.

"See? See! I told you, Hermione! If I didn't know any better… I'd say that he has a thing for you…" she trailed off, staring at her friend in thought.

Hermione felt her face grow impossibly hotter and took a sip of wine to cool down.

"Ginny, that's nonsense. What would _Draco Malfoy_ see in me?" Hermione scoffed, a terrible hope blossoming in her chest.

"The same things Ron saw, I s'pose," she shrugged.

"_Ron_. They're really late," Hermione frowned, desperate for a change of topic.

"They've really done it this time. Potter will have _much_ to make up for later," she growled, seeming to forget the topic of Malfoy.

Hermione couldn't help but giggle seeing her friend's wrath.

_Redheads are known to be temperamental, after all. And I'll be getting married to one. It'll be like our common room rows all over again… except forever._

She frowned slightly when a familiar mop of red hair caught her eye.

"Oh, they're here. _Don't turn around. _Should we pretend that everything's peachy?" Hermione queried under her breath.

"Oh, yes. We'll make them pay," Ginny said, a dark twinkle in her eye.

Hermione was sorely tempted to give Malfoy a glance, just to see his expression when Ron and Harry arrived. Instead, she made herself focus on her _fiancé_ and pretend that everything was peachy. Ron mumbled all sorts of excuses but zero apologies. He finally leaned down to press a kiss on Hermione's cheek when she chanced a peek at Malfoy; he was indeed staring once more, his eyes narrowed in distaste. She quickly looked away and forced a smile at Ron, who happened to be running his eyes over every inch of bare skin of hers he could see.

"Mione, you sure are looking beautiful tonight," he whispered in her ear.

His breath tickled her ear and she let out a laugh, squirming away from him.

"Thank you, Ron, glad you noticed. You look, er, nice too."

Truth was, he was looking rather mismatched. He wore a maroon button down shirt with grey trousers while clad in black shoes. It looked like he attempted to flatten his hair, but there was still some hair sticking erratically at the back and sides. If Hermione were honest with herself, she would have realized that she felt ashamed to be seen with him.

"Why aren't you wearing that new tie I bought you, Ron? I think it would have looked good with your, erm, outfit," she said, reaching out to place her hand on his arm.

"You know I hate wearing ties, Hermione. I feel like they're choking me," he shrugged, pulling a face.

She stared at him, wondering whether he was being serious or not. Seconds later Hermione realized that he was.

"But you were complaining last time that you had no decent ties to wear and when I finally buy one for you, you simply choose not to wear it," she said, trying to reason out his logic.

"Mione," he groaned. "Can you drop it?"

She nodded tersely, noticing how Ginny kept eyeing them and ignored what Harry was telling her about the new Auror he'd hired. Hermione straightened her posture and chanced a sly glimpse at Malfoy; he seemed to be in deep conversation with his date.

But it was almost like her gaze was magnetic, drawing him and so he gave her a quick glance before turning back to his date. She sighed and turned to look at Ron, the nagging feeling of disappointment poking at her.

"Are you all ready to order?" the waiter asked, flashing Hermione a big smile.

"I sure am. I'd like the soupe au pistou, please," she smiled, closing her menu.

The waiter nodded, giving her one last smile before turning to Ginny.

"I'd like coq au vin please," she said.

The waiter took another peep at Hermione before turning to Harry ("Steak frites, please.").

Hermione noticed that Ron had balled his hands into fists and that his face was red as he eyed the waiter.

"_Es-car-got_ for me," he said, glaring up at the waiter.

The waiter blinked at him for a few seconds and then wrote his order in.

"Everything all right, miss? Could I get you two ladies any more wine?" he smiled flirtatiously at Hermione.

She felt her cheeks redden but managed to smile and nod all the same. Had she looked at Ron, she would have noticed that his eye was twitching with jealousy. The waiter came back with the bottle and generously poured the wine to the top, giving Hermione the tiniest of winks.

That, however, seemed to be what drove Ron to explode.

"That's enough!" he shouted at the waiter, who blinked and turned to Ron. "That's my fiancée you keep making cow eyes at, you wanker! So if you appreciate having a job, I recommend you behave respectfully toward _me_!"

Hermione saw everybody in the restaurant stop their conversations and turn to look at them. She felt like vanishing on the spot and couldn't think of any words that would serve as apology to the waiter. She didn't even want to look at Malfoy now, who was probably sneering at them, calling Ron all sorts of true words in his head.

The waiter nodded and apologized primly, taking off and heading to the back to take their orders in.

"Great, now our food is probably going to have spit in it," Harry muttered, giving his friend a peeved glance.

"That is bloody disgusting," Ron scoffed, not bothering to lower his voice.

"I'll be right back," Hermione whispered, unable to take anymore and standing up.

"Where are you going?" Ron snapped, narrowing his eyes at her.

"To the restroom... if that's okay with your highness," Hermione hissed, pushing her chair in with a little more force than necessary.

She raised herself to her full height and walked away with as much dignity as she could muster, trying to ignore the hushed whispers that had broken out in the restaurant.

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read and as always, thanks for continue to support my fic. :)


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I own nada.

* * *

Draco thought that they could literally hear a pin drop (as the Muggles said) in the restaurant after Weasley exploded at the waiter. He couldn't quite blame him but that was no reason to go off at the bloke. Still… when he saw Hermione stand up, he could almost feel the drool drip off his chin.

_Then again... _

"Excuse me," he muttered suddenly to Astoria, who looked slightly taken aback.

She nodded, fluttering her long lashes in confusion. He gave her the smallest of smiles and rose as elegantly as he could, striding as fast as possible towards the back, where he knew the restrooms were located.

Draco went into the men's out of pure vanity, knowing he still looked impeccable. As always, he'd dressed in black. He just felt so much more handsome and loved the contrast it created with his hair. Speaking of which…

_Blast you, little hair strand! Why won't you do my bidding and lie down?! This may have been the reason I slicked my hair back. Of course, it wasn't very flattering… but then again, it __**was**__ me._

He smoothed down the front of his shirt and vest, fixing his silver tie last. He smiled and winked at his reflection before sashaying out. He leaned against the dark marble wall in the foyer, hoping that Hermione hadn't slipped out while he was admiring himself. Every time a woman walked out of the restroom, he felt his heart speed up only to find that it wasn't her. He was about to give up, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers and slumped his shoulders slightly when out she came, looking deep in thought.

He was thankful for his long legs (but wasn't he always?) but at the rate Hermione was going, she wasn't going to notice them in time and would doubtlessly end up toppling over them. So he straightened his posture and cleared his throat, causing her to jump in surprise.

"Malfoy!" she gasped, clutching at her pale throat. "What are you doing here?"

"Why, good evening Granger. It's so nice to see you too," he drawled, smirking at her.

She huffed and gave him a look that floundered between amusement and no-nonsense.

"Just came out of the loo, of course," he lied with an indolent shrug of his shoulder.

"But… why did you seem to be standing there?" she asked, frowning slightly as she turned to peer behind her for a moment.

"Who are you looking for?" he chuckled, choosing to ignore her question.

"Your date? Surely that's why you're lurking outside the loo," she deduced, eyes zeroing on the hair that didn't lie flat.

He brushed it down nervously before crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

"No, she's at the table. Undoubtedly wondering what the hell came over her date that he had to get up so abruptly," Draco said, feasting his eyes upon her face.

_Merlin, she's absolutely stunning. Such beauty and brains is wasted on the poor excuse of a man she's engaged to. I suspected she had a nice body, but I didn't know to what degree. Rawr, baby, rawr. I wonder what lies underneath her dress…_

"How's it going so far?" she asked him, eyes flashing down toward his tie.

"Wouldn't doubt if she was half in love with me already," he sighed dramatically.

Hermione rolled her eyes but gave him a grudging smile all the same.

"If only all men could dress as well as you," she mumbled, staring at his tie.

It flattered the hell out of him but he found it so out of nowhere that he didn't know how to respond, so he didn't.

"You obviously have nothing against ties," she said, this time more clearly.

He chuckled and cocked his head.

"Are you kidding me? I love ties! You should see my collection."

She raised her eyebrow skeptically, narrowing her eyes slightly at him.

"Is that what you tell women so you can take them back to your place?"

He stared at her for a moment before bursting out in laughter. She watched him, amazed, as he doubled over and slapped his thigh.

"No, but thanks for the suggestion. Who knew Granger had it in her to give _me_ advice on how to get some," he mused, straightening his posture once more.

Her cheeks burned bright but he just smiled cheekily at her.

_I just love riling her up, nothing gets me more excited than seeing her cheeks burn and that twinkle in her eye. Of course, there are more ways she could get me excited…_

Draco shook his head abruptly and cleared his throat.

"Well, it appears as if you have recovered from that ghastly incident. I'll be well on my way, then," he said, although he wasn't so keen to watch her leave her just yet.

Her face went blank for a moment before looking up at him, grabbing his left arm suddenly. Draco nearly jumped out of his skin at her touch and it didn't help her fingers were curled around the very spot where he'd been branded with the Dark Mark. He swallowed nervously, her hand feeling uncomfortably hot through the fabric of his shirt; unthinkingly, he ripped his arm from her grasp, causing her to drop her mouth in shock.

"I'm sorry, that was terribly rude of me. That's where the Dark Mark was…" he trailed off, looking down at the floor.

He heard her gasp softly but didn't say anything and so they stood standing together in awkward silence.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to— it was thoughtless… you shouldn't keep your date waiting. She's very pretty, from what I saw," she told him softly before walking away.

He let out the softest of groans as he watched her walk away from him.

_Merlin's saggy trousers, what an arse. That lucky, undeserving bastard…_

He felt his face turn red and shook his head once more.

_I should go back to Astoria. I've spent enough time away from her._

He let out a deep sigh, straightened his back and slipped one hand out of his pocket, giving him a very suave look. As he strutted back into the dining room, he could feel the women turn to stare at him.

_If only I could read minds. Or maybe not… I'm not so sure I'd like to hear what Granger __**truly**__ thinks of me._

Still, he knew there was only one pair of (chocolate brown) eyes that he wanted on him.

He spotted Astoria's mane of chocolate hair and sat back down quickly, giving her a small apologetic smile.

"Long line?" she asked wryly.

He chuckled softly and took a sip of his elf-made wine.

"You don't even know."

"The man who exploded at the waiter… is that Harry Potter seated at his table?" she whispered curiously.

Truthfully, Draco hadn't noticed. He'd been too busy thinking of Hermione, so he glanced over at the table for a moment and nodded.

"Sure is. Along with his wife and best friends, who happen to be engaged; one of who happens to be my boss," Draco said, marveling inwardly at the tragedy of it all.

"Which one is your boss?" she asked, turning to look at their table with interest.

"The woman in red, Hermione Granger," he answered shortly.

Astoria turned back around, eyebrows elevated with shock.

"The Mudblood's your boss?" she whispered, leaning closer to him.

Draco felt as if the blood in his veins had been replaced with Pepper-Up.

"Don't call her that," he snapped, unable to keep his cool.

She arched her eyebrow dubiously and watched him compose himself.

"Seems like I've struck a nerve. But I apologize nonetheless. I didn't do it out of condescension; it's just a term that I was raised with. Well, you should be more than familiar with that," she smiled sardonically.

He nodded curtly, not bothering to look back at her.

_Is this what Weasley felt when I called Granger that? Is this what __**she**__ felt every time I called her that? Merlin, I truly was a monster._

"You like her," she suddenly said in an aghast tone.

"I do not. She's my boss and I respect her. She's truly a brilliant witch," he answered far too quickly for his liking.

She smirked, something that annoyed the hell out of him.

_I'm liking her less and less every moment. She may be __**extremely**__ easy on the eyes, but I find that I can't stand her and that just won't do. But maybe… maybe I just haven't given her a proper chance. I've been so focused on Granger that I haven't quite paid attention to what she's told me. Tut tut, what kind of gentleman have I become?_

"I, too, would like to apologize. I didn't mean to come off sounding sensitive. I truly admire her and don't particularly enjoy listening to someone who barely knows her make snap judgments," he offered, shrugging a shoulder.

Astoria watched him for a moment until her lips finally spread in a smile.

"I'm sorry too. Really. I suppose I'm just nervous. I haven't gone out on a date in a while and I really like you," she admitted, letting out a soft laugh.

He couldn't help but smile at her, watching her face light up when she smiled.

_She truly is beautiful._

His eyes couldn't help but glance where Hermione was seated.

_Can't forget about how single __**she**__ is._

Draco snapped his eyes back to her face and saw that she was watching him curiously.

"So what made you visit my mother?" he asked her as the waiter arrived with their food.

"Well, honestly, I'd been thinking about you for a while. I knew I was going to be in town for a while so I went to visit your mother to see if I should give wooing you a go," she said, cutting into her duck.

He chuckled as he cut a piece of his filet mignon and chewed, the spices filling his mouth in symphony.

"I must be honest with you, I was never one to have relationships," Draco confessed, shrugging a shoulder.

"Oh, I know. I remember that very well. Except for Pansy, maybe."

He raised his brows with a begrudging appreciation.

"You remember that?"

"I remember everything about you," she admitted shyly, looking down at her plate.

He felt something strange in his chest and idly wondered if it would be worth checking out with a doctor. Still, he couldn't help how his lips formed a genuine smile.

They continued to chat amiably until it was finally time to go. Draco stood and gently rested his hand against her lower back as they made their way to the exit. He also tried not to look at Hermione, afraid of what he'd see should he let his eyes wander.

"Dinner was delicious, thank you very much," Astoria smiled as they walked out.

She took hold of his right arm, causing him to stiffen for a moment before realizing it was meant to be a friendly gesture.

"Jumpy, aren't you?" she grinned.

"_Twitchy little ferret, aren't you Malfoy?" _

He chuckled weakly, wanting to push any memory of _her_ away.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like dessert?" he asked yet again.

"No, I'm sure. But thanks for offering."

_I could turn you into dessert, dear._

"Doesn't hurt to ask," he shrugged, squinting down at her.

A slight breeze passed, one that toyed with Astoria's dark mane. She had been watching him intently as he looked back at her with mild interest, one that grew by the second. He could hear voices in the near distance and Astoria let out a soft laugh before grabbing him by the lapels of his coat, pulling him in for a kiss.

He froze for the briefest of seconds before kissing her back, pressing his body closer to hers. Her lips were soft and adept, something he found pleasing. They struggled with each other for control for a moment and Draco had the sudden urge to laugh out loud.

The voices got closer and Draco could _feel_ the people to whom they belonged to staring, but he just couldn't quite bring himself to care at the moment.

"Hermione, aren't you coming as well?"

Draco stilled at the sound of her name and knew right then and there that his secret had finally been uncovered by Astoria. Worse still, Hermione had more than likely witnessed him snogging the stuffing out of her.

_Why it bothers me, I won't even begin to fathom at the moment..._

"N-no, I'm fine, Ronald. Think I'll just head home for a bubble bath," he heard her respond quietly after the sound of her heels scraped to a sudden stop.

He groaned softly and pulled away from Astoria as her eyes watched him intently, face blank. He looked back at her, feeling thankful for the darkness that surrounded him because he could feel his face burn.

"Are you su— bloody hell, she just left like that!" he heard the Weasel complain.

"No kidding, Ron! After all the stunts you pulled on her tonight, do you really expect her to go back home with you and fellate you all night?" he heard female Weasley ask her clueless older brother.

Draco felt the sudden urge to laugh but reined it in, otherwise they'd know that he was eavesdropping on them.

"Oi, Ginny. I never, ever want to hear you talking about that again, you hear me?" Ron snapped at her.

"Oh, Harry, please cover ickle Ronnie's virgin baby ears. They're much too sensitive to hear the truth," she said in a mock whisper.

"Ginny…" Weasel threatened.

"Seriously, Ron. How _thick_ can you get? Either you better get her really nice flowers, chocolates or some jewelry. Know what, why not make it all three? Because the clusterfuck that you caused tonight will _not_ be forgotten by Hermione anytime soon and you know it. Let's go, Harry. Now's here's a man who _deserves_ things," she said, ending with a purr.

With a _pop_ they, too, were gone.

The Weasel remained alone, grumbling under his breath and Draco found himself urging him to Apparate before he lost control of his temper once more. After what sounded like a rock being kicked, he finally did and Draco sighed with relief.

"Well, that was an interesting conversation," Astoria commented lightly.

"Oh! Yes," he said, feeling abashed at forgetting that she was there. "Who knew the female Weasley was so droll? I approve of her being Granger's best friend."

He suddenly noticed Astoria's eyes become shiny with tears.

_Uh-oh… I'm not particularly good with female emotions that include tears._

"You don't have to say, Draco. I know. But _you_ should know that she's engaged," she whispered, staring intently at him.

"For Merlin's sake, I know! Okay? I _know_," he growled, feeling both exasperated and miserable.

"Why don't we give this a try?" she suggested, taking a tentative hold of his hand.

"For all you know, this is going nowhere," he retorted, having half a mind to snatch his hand back.

"I don't care, Draco. At least we'd have _tried,_ right?"

Draco stared at her, once again finding her ridiculously beautiful. But there was more than just beauty to Astoria as well; she was smart and incredibly lady-like.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Just don't blame me if—"

"Shut up, Draco," she whispered, pulling him in for another kiss.

_Well, that's certainly an easy way to silence me._

* * *

Thanks for reading as always! Have a wonderful weekend, ya'll. :)


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you so much for the reviews, following and putting the fic under your favorites! :)

Disclaimer: I have yet to own anything but the plot. So don't sue, ya'll.

* * *

Hermione found herself in a foul mood as she riffled through the drawers of her desk, searching for a document that she needed Malfoy to look over.

_Nothing is going right today! First I scald my tongue with the tea, and then I can't find Collins and now this bloody paper… what's next? Breaking my quill?_

But just as soon as she found the blasted document, she grabbed her quill to sign… but the nib of her quill broke.

_Spoke too soon._

She yowled out of frustration, chucking the quill aside and swept all the papers from her desk and onto the floor. She slumped back in her chair, pressing the heel of her hands tightly against her eyes.

_I'm a grown woman and grown women don't burst into tears like babies. I'm a grown woman and grown women don't burst into tears like bab—_

"Granger? What in Merlin's sake happened?" asked the astonished voice of Draco Malfoy.

She let out a sigh that came out as a hiss, lowering her hands slowly before dropping them lifelessly onto her lap.

_Just what I needed... Malfoy snooping around. He'll probably just make me feel worse._

"Not having a good day. Nothing seems to be going my way," she muttered petulantly as she forced herself to look up at him.

And Morgana, what a sight. He was wearing his usual black garments though his tie was silver today, reminding her of the disastrous date night; she groaned inwardly but feigned a smile all the same.

"Want me to make you some tea? Wait, don't answer that. I know it's just what you need," he said as he began to busy himself.

Hermione couldn't help but stare at him as he did, finding him to look so homely and unlike himself. As he set the steaming mug in front of her, she still couldn't help but gawk at him.

His face was earnest, no smirk or sneer in sight. His eyes weren't their usual steel grey either. Hermione thought they looked rather like liquid silver.

"Thank you, this was nice of you," she murmured as she let the warmth of the tea warm her hands.

He chuckled softly, taking a seat and watching her.

"I'm not nice, Granger."

"You hadn't done this in a while," she spoke, feeling drawn to his eyes.

A corner of his mouth lifted and said, "I didn't want to get told off, you see. I knew there would come a day when you'd tell me you're perfectly capable of doing it yourself."

She stared at him, unsure of whether he was joking or not.

"But I never did."

"But you never did," he agreed, giving her a peculiar look that sent tremors down her spine.

"Nevertheless, I always appreciated it," Hermione assured him, taking the smallest of sips.

"I suppose this'll come in handy someday…" he trailed off musingly.

She furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him curiously, cocking her head.

"For the married life. Don't you know, Granger? I'm engaged too," he told her, nary a smile in sight.

She felt her world stop and collapse in itself in that moment.

_Deep breaths, deep breaths Hermione._

"You… you're what?" she whispered hoarsely, setting her mug on the desk so roughly that tea sloshed out of it.

He stared back at her, his eyes turning softer by the moment.

"Engaged, Granger. To be married, as I'm sure you know," he smirked then, the ghost of her words lingering between them.

"But… how? I didn't think… you never said..." she sputtered incoherently, blinking madly.

"Her name is Astoria Greengrass. Long story short, she went to my mother and showed interest in me. We've gone out a couple of times and… we're engaged now," he explained placidly, clasping his hands together.

Hermione's mouth hung open at his words.

"You've only been on _a few _dates and you've decided to get married? Just like that? What kind of rubbish decision is that?" she scoffed, feeling much more irked than she ought have been.

"Not all of us can afford to marry for love, Granger," he told her quietly, looking down at his lap.

"Look at you, Draco Malfoy, talking about something he can't afford," she said harshly, shaking her head in disbelief.

He smiled without any real humor and nodded.

"Do you… do you love her?" she asked timidly.

"No, not really," he replied shortly, looking away for a moment.

"That's no way to live."

His eyes snapped back to hers and Hermione noticed the iciness in them.

"Oh, it's easy for you to criticize, Granger! You've got Weasley," he spat out. "You've been with him for five years and love him. I'm aware that while any woman would marry me, there aren't many that would do so out of love. You know me. I'm stubborn, cynical and cold. They would only put up with me because I'm easy on the eyes and because I'm obscenely wealthy… and what kind of life would that be, really? Astoria, on the other hand… it's different with her."

Hermione felt a sharp pang in her chest and she wasn't too sure whether it was because of his self-deprecating, downright loathing comments or implying that Astoria herself was different. Quite frankly, she didn't want to dwell too much on it lest she uncover something she ought not. She belatedly realized that her eyes must have filled up with tears because Draco's outline had grown fuzzy.

_Oh, no... please don't cry, Hermione._

"How can you appreciate yourself so little, Malfoy? Sure, you may be those things but from what you've shown me, you're capable of much more. But only if you let yourself! It seems as if you're stuck in the past and who you used to be… that's going to get you nowhere. Sure, you made mistakes in the past… but you're past paying for them, Malfoy. Why won't you let yourself be happy? Why won't you believe that there's a woman who's bound to make you happy without having to settle for whoever shows the slightest bit of interest your way?" she asked through gritted teeth, gesturing wildly. "Because that's what it feels like you're doing to me, Malfoy. You're settling and I've never thought of you as a man who settled for _anything_, most especially a woman."

_Even if said woman is seemingly perfect._

He simply stared at her, seemingly at a loss for words.

"Well then, Granger… where is this woman who will give me so-called happiness?" he asked tiredly, running his fingers through his flaxen locks. "If you happen to see her, would you please let her know that I'm looking for her?"

"It's not fair that you're just giving up. It's not like you," she told him quietly, ignoring his pithy comment.

A ghost of a smile lurked on his lips as he watched her.

"I wouldn't have minded marrying you," he spoke softly.

Hermione blinked, staring at the man before her in surprise.

"_What?_"

"You're _so_ unlike anybody I know, Granger. I never expected myself to become close to you, yet here we are. I enjoy working with you, regardless of how demanding, aggravated or stressed you become throughout the day. I have grown... to... to care for you. I have even managed to find a semblance of tranquility and happiness by your side. I can't even remember the last time I felt _one_ of those things yet I feel like that every day, with you. I can see why everybody in the department, hell, the whole Ministry, respects you. You truly are the best boss," he spoke fervidly, his eyes never leaving hers.

Hermione tried to respond but couldn't because of the lump in her throat; a large part of her was sure it was her heart. She couldn't even help the tears that trickled down her eyes during his impassioned speech. Draco looked distressed for a moment after taking notice of them but with cold, shaky fingers she hastily brushed them away.

"Not even… not even Ron spoke of happiness when he proposed, that git," she sniffled, unable to contain the tears that continued to well up in her eyes.

"I've always known and voiced how much of an idiot Weasley is, Granger. You could have spared yourself the trouble and just listened to me," he told her, half jokingly. "Don't you love him? Don't you want to marry him?"

"I love Ron, I _do_… but he's _so_ insensitive all the time and he can get ridiculously jealous," she admitted exhaustively, running a fingertip along the rim of her mug.

"Is he jealous of me?" Draco asked, deeply amused.

"You have _no_ idea," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Draco grinned widely then, letting out a pleased bark of laughter.

"As he _should_ be, really."

"That doesn't make our relationship any easier. As a matter of fact, I can't recall the last time we were both happy," she whispered uneasily, biting her lip.

"It seems like Weasley has yet to learn the fine art of appreciation," Draco told her dryly.

"I love him, but there are times when he drives me up the wall! It makes me question what I saw in him in the first place..."

"You've just got to keep on loving him. It won't make things easier, but it'll certainly help," he said to her after a long moment of silence.

She let out a watery chuckle and gave him an incredulous look.

"Who would have ever thought that _Draco Malfoy_ would ever give _me_, Mudblood Hermione Granger, relationship advice?"

He scowled fiercely at her and leaned forward in the chair.

"Don't call yourself that, Granger," he snapped at her. "I'm sorry I ever did."

"Why deny what I am, Malfoy? But… don't worry. I eventually learned not to let it get to me."

He gave her a weak smile and watched as she drank the remains of her now-cold tea.

"I guess I won't be invited to your wedding, huh?" he smirked halfheartedly.

Hermione chuckled softly but shook her head.

"I'm afraid not. I'm sure Ron would think you have a dastardly plot up your sleeve. Something like attending solely to steal me away before walking down the aisle," she said with an eye roll.

"That's not a bad idea..." he mused, stroking his chin in thought.

"Well, what about _your_ fiancée? I'm sure she wouldn't find it terribly amusing to discover that you've brought somebody else's fiancée home."

"Oh, we don't live together," he responded, shrugging a shoulder.

They watched each other for a few moments as a strange, fluttery feeling crept up on Hermione.

"So you're really getting married then, Malfoy?"

"Yes."

Hermione nodded slowly, a feeling of disparaging sadness spreading all over her; it felt akin to the coldness that overtook her when the Dementor boarded the Hogwarts Express third year.

_Oh, no… oh, please Merlin no… the last thing I need is emotions confusing me! I… love Ron. I love Ron. Absolutely. I've loved him since I was thirteen and now we're engaged!_

"I wouldn't have minded marrying you either," she spoke softly, biting her lip.

His dove grey eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"You may not consider yourself to be nice, but you're certainly agreeable. You're responsible, hardworking, surprisingly thoughtful… and in the time you've worked here, I've become fond of you. Hermione Granger, fond of Draco Malfoy. Who would have thought?" she chuckled softly, giving her head a shake.

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it upon second thought. She licked her lips nervously and watched as his eyes darted down to her mouth, watching the motion intently before focusing on her eyes once more. The silence stretched between them and although it wasn't awkward, it felt electric. Hermione couldn't help but think that sparks would fly if they were to touch.

_I need to get him out of here before I tell him something I might end up regretting. Now, Hermione!_

"I need you to look over this. Please and thank you," she said dismissively, handing over some documents without looking at him.

She felt Draco continue to stare at her as she held the papers out in her hand. He seemed to shake himself before reaching for them, grabbing the opposite side from where her fingers gripped the document. Even so, Hermione could have sworn that she felt a jolt pass through her.

"I'll, erm, bring these back later," he murmured as he walked out of her office.

She nodded, not bothering to look at him.

"Would you be a peach and close the door? Thanks," she said coolly, still not looking up at him.

Hermione could feel him staring at her but she forced herself not to look back. She finally heard the door get closed and slouched forward in her seat, pressing her forehead against her desk.

_I'm such an idiot. What kind of engaged woman tells another engaged man that she wouldn't mind getting married to him? I must have shocked the Slytherin out of him for not to reply. But could he… have been serious? Did he truly mean that? I guess it doesn't even matter at this point, seeing as how he's engaged to Astoria Greengrass and I'm engaged to Ron Weasley._

She let out a heavy sigh and frowned at the scattered papers on the floor. With a flourish of her wand, the papers were once again stacked in neat piles on her desk.

_I like Draco Malfoy. I must! Or else I'd never have told him… oh, bugger. But how could I do that to Ron? Sure, he may not be the best man sometimes… but he still loves me. Merlin… why would he propose to me now, of all times? Could he sense my shifting feelings towards Malfoy? Is that why he's been so selfish and jealous?_

She flicked her wand at her quill and it became as good as new.

_Of all times for Malfoy to get engaged, why did it have to be now? Could he… well, he said he liked me. But 'like' me how? Oh, seriously, Hermione. Does it even matter? You're engaged! This is so confusing. Continuing to work with him will undoubtedly confuse me further. Perhaps I should quit now… no, that wouldn't be right. Who am I kidding? One of the reasons I enjoy coming to work is for his witty banter. I enjoy seeing that part of Draco Malfoy I was deprived of for so long. Most teachers were over the moon with me and my grades, so I can imagine just how overshadowed Draco must have felt but he's really very brilliant. I just love our mind-stimulating chats and it's not like I can just talk to Ron…_

Hermione looked out her window and saw that the "sky" was dreary and grey.

_Like his eyes. As if I really need a reminder of the man when he's quite literally next door. I just knew today was going to be a bad day. I wish I wasn't always right._

* * *

When it rains, it pours, huh?

Anyway, happy Monday!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

* * *

Draco shifted uncomfortably in his seat, ignoring the inane chatter between his mother and fiancée.

"—you think, Draco?"

The chatter came to a merciful pause… but he could feel himself getting stared at.

"Draco, son?" Narcissa's voice asked worriedly, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Yes? I'm so sorry, I was just thinking of the latest coalition act toward vampires," he lied smoothly, having the grace to look rueful.

Astoria and his mother traded exasperated glances, the latter giving him a tight-lipped smile.

"Lovely Astoria was just recounting how everything is basically ready for the wedding," Narcissa told Draco in a steely voice.

"Ah, yes… nearly everything," he nodded absently, lifting a porcelain cup to his lips.

"_Nearly_ everything?" his mother asked, sounding positively scandalized.

Draco glanced down and noticed that his teacup was empty. He set it down carefully, not wanting to get scolded by his mother for damaging her precious heirloom china and focused his gaze on her.

"Yes, Mother. My tuxedo is in the last stages of alteration," he answered simply.

"Tuxedo? As in… Muggle clothes?" she questioned, sounding mildly startled.

"Yes, Mother," he told her, biting back a sigh. "I thought that it would look much more flattering on me than a robe. Although I do look _quite_ handsome in formal robes... still, it's a matter of preference and I'm partial to suits over robes nowadays."

"I think I'll go make some more tea," Astoria interrupted quickly.

She stood and scampered, much to Narcissa's amusement.

"Did I frighten her?" she whispered, arching a golden eyebrow.

"You certainly looked frightening," Draco snorted.

She frowned at him and sighed.

"What's wrong, Draco?"

He laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Does something _have_ to be wrong?"

She observed him with her intuitive deep blue eyes while Draco resisted the urge to fidget once more.

"You're delaying this much more than necessary, son. How many times have you gotten your tuxedo altered?" she asked in a much softer voice.

Draco glanced at the doorway, expecting Astoria to come through any second.

"Mummy, I'm only going to get married once. Or so I hope," he smiled cheekily, hoping to take her off his scent. "Everything needs to be perfect and that includes my attire. I realize that day will be all about Astoria but I can't be looking anything less than perfect. For her."

She continued watching him and cocked her head, rubbing the pads of her fingertips against the pad of her thumb.

"My dear, you may be able to fool yourself but you cannot fool me."

Draco's heart hammered in his chest.

_She sees right through me. She always has. Should I… confide in her? Or should I keep this to myself and take it to the grave?_

He swallowed back the lump that formed in his throat and opened his mouth to respond when Astoria breezed through the doorway, teapot in hand.

Narcissa eyed him beadily and he knew this wasn't a conversation he could get out of.

"You're too thoughtful, dearest. You _do_ know you're a witch, right?" she asked Astoria playfully.

Her lovely face burned crimson as she refilled Draco and Narcissa's teacups.

"I find the act of making tea soothing," she smiled, refilling her teacup last.

Narcissa nodded, looking oddly impressed.

"Anyway, we're all just waiting on Draco's suit," she chirped. "He hasn't allowed me to see it but I just _know_ he's going to look devastatingly handsome."

"Darling, I look handsome in everything," he winked at his fiancée.

Narcissa rolled her eyes and Draco smirked at his mother.

"Of course, there's one last detail…" Astoria trailed off, a look of apprehension dawning all over her face.

"Oh?" Narcissa asked, setting her teacup down.

"Well, I had initially hoped to keep it as a surprise – a wedding surprise – but I just can't keep it to myself anymore. I'm just not sure how well it's going to go over with the guests…"

"What is it?" Draco asked despite himself, curiosity piqued.

She offered both Malfoys a smile before entwining her fingers together.

"I had spoken to Kingsley Shacklebolt about receiving a special permission to have Mr. Malfoy attend the wedding. Under heavy guard and supervision, of course," she added quickly, as if it somehow changed things.

Draco stared at her, a mix of revulsion and fury welling up in him.

"Well, that's… considerate of you, dear," Narcissa said weakly.

Draco gave his mother a glare before turning to scowl at Astoria.

"And you were going to tell me this _when_?" he hissed at her.

Her face went pale before offering him a hesitant smile.

"I had wanted it to be a surprise, Draco. I know how things are between you and your father and I just thought—"

"That it would be prudent of you to _meddle_?" he burst, standing up and hovering over her.

"Draco, I think—"

"That this is, quite frankly, none of your business," Draco snapped at her.

"Stop cutting me off!" she stood, glaring at her fiancé.

"Stop making choices behind my back!" he countered.

"Draco, I'm going to be a Malfoy soon too. Don't you think it's time to move on and forgive? I'd like to have him in my life too, no matter what offenses he committed," Astoria told him solemnly.

Draco's mouth hung open as the worst of names and insults swam through his head. He finally straightened his posture before sneering at Astoria.

"If you so desire, why don't you marry _him_ instead?" he seethed, realizing but not quite caring how childish he sounded.

Astoria gasped, her green eyes growing wide until he thought they could round no more.

"I never thought…" she whispered, eyes filling with tears.

"Yeah, well you thought wrong, didn't you? You knew precisely who you were marrying, didn't you Astoria? So why the shock? You knew how much of a bastard I could be back in the day. Did you really think I'd changed?" he mocked, crossing his arms.

Her mouth hung open at his cruel words and she stood frozen before him. She finally took a deep breath and shook her dark tresses back.

"Maybe we need some time away to cool our heads," she spoke quietly, avoiding eye contact with Draco and his mother.

But before either could answer, she turned and Disapparated on the spot.

"SOD IT!" Draco shouted, kicking back the cream chair he had been sitting on earlier.

He roared and spat, bellowing curses at the heavens and kicking things over until he felt himself start to run out of anger. He stood once more, grabbed the lapels of his coat and straightened them before running his hands through his hair and pushing it out of his face.

"Had enough, have you dear?"

His mother's voice startled him. Draco had felt so enraged that he'd forgotten she was even in the room. He turned to her and offered a semblance of an apologetic smile.

"I got carried away," he whispered, taking a deep breath. "I apologize, I'll mend everything…"

"You can do that later. Sit down, Draco," she told him.

He nodded jerkily and flipped the chair over, sitting down with as much dignity as he could muster.

Narcissa watched him quietly, flicking her wand thoughtlessly at her teacup so that the tea would warm again.

"Lucius and I should have taught you better than to throw tantrums. Mind you, it wasn't on purpose but Circe knows that it taught you that it was the easiest way for you to get your way," she mused, stirring her tea absently.

Draco stared at her acidly, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

"While I understand _why_ you're upset at Astoria, you really shouldn't have lashed out at her that way, Draco," she scolded gently.

"She _hid_ the fact that she wanted him to attend our bloody wedding, Mother. She just as good lied to me!"

"I know darling and as despicable it sounds to you, think of the reason _why_ she did it," she reminded him tenderly.

"She wants us to mend our relationship," Draco rolled his eyes.

"That... and she loves you."

Draco squirmed in his seat.

"Do you love her?"

He opened his mouth to reply but found he couldn't really answer without sounding like a bastard, so he closed his mouth and swallowed heavily.

His mother gave him a knowing little smile and took a dainty sip of tea.

"She's intelligent, beautiful, accomplished and comes from a wonderful family."

"I don't care about that!" he scowled, looking utterly offended.

"Of course, Draco. There are many more important things than blood. Such as the fact that she has a wonderful heart and looks at you with a love-struck smile on her face, it's quite endearing actually," she smiled. "Not only that, but as good of heart she has, she is quite willing to defend herself; she isn't anybody's doormat."

Draco nodded, feeling a sort of grudging respect towards his fiancée.

"But despite all that, you don't love her. Why is that?"

_I could lie to her, I could cover my feelings up. But what good would that do?_

"I love someone else," he whispered, surprising himself.

_Merlin's saggy pants… I love her._

"I figured that was the case," she sighed, setting her teacup down. "Tell me, who is the young woman with whom you're in love?"

"Her name is… her name is… Hermione. Hermione Granger. You've met," he added dryly.

She looked thoughtful for a long moment before nodding her head.

"Under the worst circumstances possible," she admitted, looking genuinely contrite.

"I didn't even know I was in love with her until now," he confessed, grimacing to himself.

"Why is that?"

"As you know, I was a pompous shite to her when we attended Hogwarts. I belittled her at every possible opportunity yet she always took my insults in stride; no matter how cruel my words, they never seemed to faze her. Well, not including the first time I called her a... a _Mudblood_," he cringed, swallowing thickly. "The Fates seem to have an interesting, mildly sadistic sense of humor because not long after running into her at Flourish and Blott's, she became my boss. She's my boss and she's engaged to Ronald Weasley, the _biggest_ sodding arsehole ever. It's obvious she loves him, yes, but it's not the type of love she ought to have for the man she's about to marry. Maybe she doesn't realize it or maybe she simply doesn't _want_ to... although I'm inclined to believe she's in denial. It's also obvious they're not right for each other. They have nothing in common! Even back in school I thought she was far too good for the likes of him and you know my opinion of her wasn't too high. But I digress... I'm not sure what keeps them together now but coming to know her and her big heart, it's because she's unsure of herself."

Narcissa quirked her brow curiously at her son's torrid speech.

"She's brilliant, Mother. She truly is. I know I whinged and sulked endlessly about her having better marks than me in school but it was unfair of me to complain and demean as I did. Not only that, but she's compassionate and strong and… amazing," he breathed out, picturing her smiling face for a moment. "She works hard and gets results but she does so fairly, never lording over anybody or even commanding with an iron first. She does this thing when she reads – I'm sure even she's not aware she does it – and she mouths along; it's _so _bloody endearing. There are also times when she's trying to concentrate and she pokes the tip of her tongue from the corner of her mouth… oh, it slays me."

Narcissa watched Draco with a growing smile, shaking her head slightly.

"What is it? Why are you shaking your head?" he asked, dropping his hands to his lap.

"Because it's clear as day that you're in love with Ms. Granger, son."

Draco swallowed heavily and nodded his head slowly.

"I am in love with Hermione Granger," he spoke softly, almost to himself.

"Does she know?"

"Oh, Merlin no," he answered, shaking his head vehemently. "Although…"

"What happened?"

"Well, it happened right after I told her of my engagement… I might have let slip that I wouldn't mind getting married to her," he sighed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"That's hardly telling her you love her," she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Draco snapped his eyes open and glared at his mother.

"What about her? Does she… is she…" Narcissa trailed off, unsure of how to phrase her question.

"No, she doesn't," he replied quietly.

"You sound sure, son. Did you ever _ask_ her?"

"Merlin's saggy… no, Mother!"

"Then why are you so sure that she doesn't?"

He chuckled humorlessly and looked at Narcissa.

"Come on… someone as brilliant and wonderful as her would never have eyes or give her heart to someone like me," he stated derisively.

"And why not? You're a—"

"Please don't say 'Malfoy'," he warned through gritted teeth.

"You _are_ a Malfoy but that wasn't what I was going to say. You're very brilliant yourself, son. You're devastatingly handsome and you're loyal. You may have had a… skewed personality when you were younger, but you have most certainly bloomed into a wonderful man. I started to see the change long after your trial but now… it's more than obvious you're a changed man, for the better. Is it her?" she asked knowingly.

"Probably… yes. I just want to do right by her, Mother. I want to watch her face light up when she wins and saves creatures, one case at a time. More importantly, I want to be by her side, to be the one she goes to…"

"Oh, my son… you love her. I'm so proud of you," she told him before standing and going to him.

He looked up at her, startled to see her outline gone hazy. He felt her tender fingers brush something away from his cheeks when he realized he was crying.

_Is it true? Am I really crying? Good god… are kneazles flying somewhere?_

"My advice to you, dearest Draco, is that you tell her. Tell her before it's too late. Your love may not be so one-sided as you think," she smiled, a motherly twinkle in her eye. "But you must speak to Astoria first. No matter how attracted you are to her… your heart belongs to another and she deserves far better than that."

Draco nodded, relishing his mother's warm touch.

"What if she rejects me?" he whimpered pathetically.

"At least you'll get to live the rest of your life knowing that you tried."

"But…"

"But _nothing_, Draco. Could you let her get married and not know whether she returns your sentiment? Now, imagine if she did and you let her get away simply because you were afraid… could you live like that?"

"No, it'd be terrible," he croaked, heart aching at the very thought.

She sighed and nodded.

"Looks like there's hope for you yet," she smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on his cheek.

_Oh, Merlin… I can only hope so._

"Good luck, my son. Tell me how it goes. After the excitement from earlier I'm in need of a nap. Also, don't forget to clean up your mess," she smirked, walking away.

Draco watched her, a small quirking the corners of his lips.

_So that's who I get it from. I may look like a Malfoy, but I'm most definitely a Black at heart._

* * *

Thanks for reading, y'all! Have a magnificent hump day. :)


	13. Chapter 13

A big thank you to everybody's who's taken the time to review. It truly means a lot to me to see what you're thoughts are on the story so far. :) Also, thank you for following and putting the story under your favorites!

Without further ado...

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Hermione briskly unpacked the salad she'd packed in the morning, half-distracted as she looked over the final draft of her newest coalition group for house-elves.

_I can't believe it's taken so long for this particular document to see the light. Maybe I was afraid of getting told it wasn't good enough… or perhaps I wanted this to be the last I accomplish before changing departments. Sigh. As if work hasn't been keeping me busy enough, Molly and Fleur have been badgering me non-stop about the wedding. I'd told them that I left every detail in their hands, did I not? That I trust their decisions blindly; so what are they coming to me for? Sweet Merlin, if I hear one more utterance of 'sweetheart neckline' or 'scalloped veil' I am going to pitch myself from the highest tower at Hogwarts. But I digress, I think this particular draft will be the paving stone to the better treatment of magical creatures in general. Hmm… when had I been told it was due? Was it Friday? Blast it, I have so much going through my head that I can't even remember a bloody date. I bet Malfoy knows, I make him write every single thing down._

"Malfoy!" she called out, sticking a fork into her salad and looking down at the draft, pretending to be otherwise immersed in the document.

Truth be told, things hadn't been the same between them ever since revealing his engagement to Astoria Greengrass to her. Malfoy had been as efficient and hard-working as always, but a cloud of uncertainty and awkwardness hung in the air when they were together. The fact that he'd told her he wouldn't mind marrying her still nagged at her, no matter how hard she tried to push the memory away; but the way his quicksilver eyes smoldered was an image she couldn't easily get out of her mind.

The easy friendship they'd managed to form before getting engaged was lost, their banter a memory as if from another life. Nowadays he only seemed to respond to her when spoken to and it bothered Hermione greatly. Consequently, he excused himself from any after-work drinks, stating he had something or other to look over. Hermione, however, was more than sure that he lied since firstly: Malfoy hardly ever took work home because secondly: he always finished everything at work.

"Yes, Granger?" he asked, voice unusually soft.

She felt herself jump slightly although she knew she had no good reason to, _she_ was the one who called _him_, for crying out loud. She dragged her eyes from the document and peered up at him as casually as possible.

He stood standing in the doorway, not even having bothered stepping into her office. Somehow, that managed to rub Hermione the wrong way.

"When's this due?" she asked, nodding toward the document on her desk with her chin.

"Two days from now. Friday at 5," he answered ever so efficiently without even looking at what she was referring to.

"Right, thanks. I don't know what's gotten into me," she murmured, picking up a quill and scrawling the date on the small notepad sitting on her desk.

She was half-hoping he would say _something. _At this point, she would even have welcomed one of his smart-arse remarks. But there was only silence from the doorway. Sighing inwardly, she went as far as to circle what she had just written just to have something to do.

"Well?" he asked, a hint of amusement laced in his voice.

"Well _what_?"

A corner of his lip twitched but otherwise remained with an impassive look on his face.

"Was that all?"

"Oh, yes. I'm so sorry. You're free to go to lunch now," she said, shaking her head to herself.

Still, he remained in his spot.

"Is… everything alright, Granger? It's not like you to forget the due date of such an important document," he asked, unclasping his hands from behind his back.

She felt her face warm as a soft chuckle escaped her lips.

"That obvious, huh?"

"A little bit," he acquiesced, stepping into her office hesitantly.

"I just feel like my brain's being overrun at the moment," she confessed, looking up into those bright silver eyes of his.

"That's understandable," he nodded. "You're only human, after all."

Hermione laughed softly.

"Looks like I am, even if I was dubbed the brightest witch of our age."

"But you _are_," he told her quietly.

Hermione felt a warm flush spread from her chest to her face and she found that she couldn't quite look Draco in the eye.

_He's here and talking to you, the least you could do it make eye contact you ingrate!_

She looked shyly up at him and noticed the dark circles that had started to bloom under his eyes. Hermione felt herself frown worriedly.

_Is he not sleeping well? Or is it another matter entirely? Could it be that he too, is being overrun with thoughts of work and wedding planning?_

"How are you, Malfoy?"

He looked rather taken aback by her question and she chided herself inwardly for not noticing he might not be well.

"I'm good," he answered, much too rapidly for her taste.

Still, something in his silver eyes betrayed another emotion that she couldn't quite name.

"Good, good. How's your—"

"Hermione!"

She turned to the door and saw Molly, Fleur and Ginny advancing towards her, arms laden with what looked like albums and fabric swatches. She groaned internally but forced a smile on her face as they stood before her desk.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Ms. Granger. I told them you were—" Olivia told her, coming to stand next to Draco.

"No worries, Liv. They're family, after all," Hermione heard herself answer through thin lips. "You may go and take your lunch."

"Thank you!" Olivia sighed, turning to look at the Weasley women one last time before scampering out of the office.

"Well, I'm off for lunch too," Draco stated in a subdued voice, not wanting to catch the eye of Hermione's visitors.

"Oh, my! Draco Malfoy," Molly said, turning her attention to him.

Hermione watched as his face tightened ever so slightly at being addressed, but turned to face the Weasley matriarch all the same.

"Hello Mrs. Weasley. How do you do?" he asked her, polite as ever.

"I'm… surprised, quite honestly. I didn't know you worked for Hermione."

"No, he works _with_ me, Molly," Hermione corrected her, hoping to get Draco off the hook.

"No, Mrs. Weasley is quite right, Granger. I'm her assistant," he said, giving the women a very un-Malfoyish ambivalent smile.

"For how long has this been going on? How come you didn't tell us, Hermione?" Molly questioned, a shadow of accusation in her voice.

Hermione straightened her posture and could barely contain the iciness in her voice as she regarded her future mother-in-law.

"About six months, actually. Malfoy here is truly the best colleague one could have," Hermione told them, flashing him a warm smile. "Although I'm not really sure why there would be a reason for me to explain you of all the goings-on of my job, I would think they would bore you to tears. Perhaps I got the wrong impression that one time I indulged a case that was close to my heart but you immediately changed the conversation to that evening's dinner. But I digress... I don't think you'd be interested to know what happens here with all the wedding planning you'd offered to do."

The room was struck with uncomfortable silence, which had Hermione regretting her tone right away.

"Malfoy, please take an extra thirty minutes for your lunch. I'm so sorry. Go enjoy," she nodded, turning her face to him despite not breaking eye contact with Molly.

She felt him stare at her for a moment before turning on his heel, his pristine black robes fluttering around his ankles.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure to?" Hermione smiled as pleasantly as she could at Molly.

"We just… we came for you to look over cakes and fabric for your dress," Molly answered rather feebly, her brown eyes still wide at Hermione's earlier tone.

"I'm sorry, Molly, but could we leave this until Saturday? I'm incredibly busy and—"

"I'm sorry dearest, but the dressmaker is _demanding_ that you choose a fabric. After all, the wedding is in _one_ month."

Hermione felt a cold shiver pass through her body and forced herself to slap on a genial expression on her face.

"I am well aware, Molly but I'm sure it can _all_ wait until Saturday."

"Hermione, you must choose a cake at the very least," Molly insisted, holding out what looked like a photo album at her.

"Molly eez right, 'ermione. We 'ad booked Maurice een advance and 'es eeger to start on ze cake," Fleur chirped, tossing her gossamer hair behind her shoulder. "But 'e cannot start if ze bride 'as not made up 'er mind."

"Something sugar-free, then."

Two pairs of brown eyes and a pair of blue gawked at her in horror.

"What? My parents were dentists," she shrugged coolly, secretly entertained at their horror-struck faces.

"Hermione dear, do be sensitive…"

"Molly, I recall handing all wedding planning reigns over to you because you _promised _to take care of everything. Tell me, what is _so_ difficult about choosing the proper cake or the right fabric for my dress? I trust you know my tastes and as much as I appreciate you wanting my input, I am extremely busy with a document that will pave way to a better treatment for _all_ magical creatu—"

But Molly seemed to have none of it.

"Hermione, _really_! Now you're just being selfish! I _know_ how important work is to you, really I do, but this is your _wedding_," the Weasley matriarch spoke heatedly.

"Mum, stop… maybe we should come back another time," Ginny suggested quietly.

"No, besides, this is her lunch hour. We're here and putting it off until another day just won't—"

Hermione loved Molly, really she did. But she was on the verge of going cross-eyed with annoyance and frustration. Soon, she would reach a boiling point – something Hermione had been trying to avoid – and it wouldn't be pretty. She felt her red-hot anger rising like in those Muggle cartoons where the face of the caricature would grow red until smoke came out of their ears, emitting a whistling noise.

"Besides, you're not even going to be working in this department after your wedding, dear!" Molly insisted in what she obviously deemed her sensible tone.

"Fine! Give me that bloody book," Hermione snapped.

She relished the look of shock on their faces as Molly meekly handed over the book. Hermione practically snatched it out of her grip and turned to a random page before pointing to a random cake.

"That one."

"But—"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Fleur, who had the sense to shut her mouth.

"This cake will be served at the wedding," she told them with a tone of finality.

"'ere are ze fabric swatches," Fleur told her timidly, stretching out her arm to hand over the swathes of material to Hermione.

"_Merci_," Hermione answered as politely as ever.

Fleur nodded uncertainly and murmured a response in French.

Hermione placed the different swatches on her desk, her salad long forgotten. Taking a deep breath she stared at each swath of fabric, occasionally taking one in her hand and rubbing the fabric between her fingers in thought.

"This one," Hermione decided, waving the winner in her hand.

"Ooh, tres bien! Zat is ze best fabric you could 'ave chosen! Eet's going to bee eemported from Fra—"

"_Oui, oui_," Hermione told her dismissively, wanting nothing else but peace and quiet. "Is that it?"

The three women traded nervous glances and swallowed nervously.

"Well, there is the matter about the invitations," Molly spoke up timidly.

"Invitations? Have they not been sent out?" Hermione frowned, leaning forward.

"Well, they have but—"

Hermione shook her head with so forcefully that her bun became undone.

"Molly, I leave all of that in your capable hands," she told her evenly, feeling her temper begin to rise yet again.

"But it's _your_ wedding, dea—"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THE BLOODY WEDDING!" Hermione exploded, shooting up to her feet.

The room got so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

"I… I'm sorry," Hermione whispered, feeling both embarrassed and aggravated. "I care. I _care_. Just… just… not now when I'm on the brink of something dear to my heart."

"Right... well, we obviously came by at the wrong time," Molly spoke tightly, clearing her throat.

_That's what I'd been trying to tell you before, woman!_

Hermione nodded wordlessly, looking down at her desk.

"Well, we'll get out of your hair. Mum, Fleur… allons-y," Ginny murmured. "Later Mione."

Hermione waved her hand without looking up at them.

"I do hope your parents can make it, Fleur," she added, unable to hold back a smirk.

She, in turn, stiffened her posture and murmured 'oui' before scurrying out of Hermione's office.

After closing the door behind them, Hermione felt weak in the knees and toppled down into her chair. She dropped her head into her hands and breathed in deeply before exhaling loudly.

_Things just went from bad to worse to hellish. So that's where Ron gets his stubbornness from. There is __**no**__ way he won't be getting word of this. If only she'd listened to me when I told her this wasn't a good time but __**no**__, she just had to plow on as if this wedding were the most important thing in the wizarding world. _

That thought left Hermione's blood run cold.

_Surely… that's no way for a soon-to-be bride to be thinking. It must be the nerves. Yes, it's the nerves. It has nothing to do with…_

Hermione straightened up and glanced at the closed door that connected her to Malfoy's office.

_I love Ron. I've loved him since I was a girl and I'm going to have the chance to spend the rest of my life with him. It's not every day that a girl can marry her childhood sweetheart… of course, it was one-sided for a long time. But I digress. I love Ron and I'm going to marry him… shouldn't I feel like the luckiest woman in the world?_

The thought only left her panicked, which broke her out in cold sweat.

_It's just stress. Yes, it's just stress. I bet all this will pass as soon as I send this document in…_

With that, Hermione straightened her suit and ignored the way her stomach churned. Just when she was about to turn back to the document on her desk (which escaped unscathed), there was a soft knock on the door that adjoined hers and Malfoy's offices.

"Granger? May I come in?"

His voice sounded muffled through the door but even so, her ears had never been so relieved to hear such sweet sound.

* * *

Coming up next: Draco and Hermione chat.

Thanks for reading, y'all! Have a wonderful weekend. :)


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I own nothin'.

* * *

Draco sat immobilized in his chair, unsure of whether to burst out laughing or cringe at Hermione's outburst.

_You didn't behave any better with Astoria_, a voice nagged at the back of his head.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath before rising in a fluid motion. He stood before the closed door and straightened the lapel of his robes nervously, raised his hand and knocked.

"Granger? Are you alright?"

No answer.

"Granger? May I come in?" he asked, gentler still.

Still nothing.

_Sod it._

He gripped the doorknob and turned it, chiding himself internally as he felt his heartbeat thud nervously against his ribs.

_You're a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake. Budge up and be a man. She won't bite… at least not the way you'd want._

He smirked and managed to smother his expression once he stepped into her office. She was hunched over her desk with her face in her hands but otherwise quite still.

"Granger?" he asked her softly.

He stepped closer and observed that she was breathing, to his immense relief.

"_Granger_," he said in a singsong voice.

Draco wasn't exactly focused where he was going and let out a soft _oof!_ when he walked into the sharp corner of her desk.

"Mrbkhsgh asgflh," she murmured.

"Er, come again? I didn't quite catch that," Draco said, craning his neck to listen closer.

She drew her hands from her face and took a deep breath before looking up at him.

"I said 'my life is over'."

Draco, unable to help himself, scoffed. She narrowed her still-bright eyes at him, daring him to contradict her.

"Granger, you're hardly the first or last woman to blow up over wedding details," he told her frankly.

She bit her lip and blushed, looking down at her lap.

"You heard that, huh?"

"I'm pretty sure the floor below _and_ above us heard you," Draco commented, crossing his arms.

She squirmed in her chair before looking up at him.

"Was it terrible of me?" she whispered, looking at him with pleading eyes.

Draco felt the urge to fidget under her blazing gaze but held himself still.

"A bit. But certainly not _unreasonable_," he assured her hastily, taking a seat in one of her chairs.

She let out a breath of air and screwed her eyes shut.

"I can't believe I went off on her like that," she murmured, shaking her head. "I didn't think I would lose my cool like that. Now I know where Ronald gets his stubbornness from."

"After having your wrath directed at me for many years, I can assure you that she _will_ get over it," he told her, chuckling.

Hermione opened her eyes and gave him a look full of pure disbelief.

"Yes, but the difference is that Molly was just trying to be helpful while _you_ were being a little tosser," she glared at him.

_Is it me, or are her lips trying to curve upward? For fuck's sake… calm down, Malfoy. It's just a bloody smile._

Or so he tried to tell himself.

"Because _you_ were a grating know-it-all," he shrugged easily, sitting back on the chair elegantly.

Her brown eyes watched his shoulders for a moment before they focused down to her desk.

"I know what I was. That's the very reason I was who I was. Or am."

Draco leaned forward slightly, interested.

"Explain?"

Hermione's eyes flickered up and met his, sighing inaudibly.

"I was always bookish, even back in primary school. It started with my passion for reading," she smiled. "But apparently, liking books was not the way to make friends. Or keep them, for that matter. I was taunted and mocked relentlessly for having top grades and raising my hand to answer every question."

"Sounds familiar," Draco murmured under his breath.

She shot him a look and pushed her hair over her shoulders.

"One of the reasons that was so was because I had no friends. Having nothing else to do, nobody to play with… I resorted to memorizing every book from cover to cover. Friday nights were the worst," she spoke with a faraway look in her eyes. "I could _hear_ them playing and not _once_ did they ask me to join. Somehow I managed to convince myself that knowledge was always better than fun because knowledge was bound to take me places."

Draco felt his heart ache for little Hermione Granger. Sure, she might have been annoying back in Hogwarts, but nobody deserved to be treated like that.

_You're one to talk, Malfoy. You're one of the people who __**loved**__ harassing her… or have you forgotten the way you tormented her? Tossing insults at her over her looks and intelligence?_

Draco fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, watching as Hermione composed herself.

"Not even in my dreamiest daydream did I think I would be _chosen_ to attend Hogwarts. I was so nervous that I didn't know what to do with myself! So I immersed myself in the books, part of me still in disbelief that such world existed. A place where I could be my true self and make friends that I would have for life. Of course, once I got there it was like primary school all over again. I could talk about nothing else but books and rules, undoubtedly boring the stuffing out of my peers with bits and bobs I'd read in _Hogwarts, A History_. But then I met two of the most stubborn and rule-breaking boys ever," she grinned with a twinkle in her eye.

Draco felt his stomach clench tortuously and stirred in the chair.

_Is this what jealousy feels like? How… unexpected._

"Yes, yes… we're all aware of what happened after," Draco rolled his eyes. "No need to recap _that_."

"Malfoy, _really_. You and Harry have been… at odds ever since I can remember. What happened?" she asked him, placing her elbows on her desk and leaning forward inquisitively.

Draco could have growled at her but she just stared at him, those dark chocolate eyes of hers watching him patiently.

"Fine," he huffed. "I'd offered Potter my friendship but he turned it down."

Hermione blinked but soon her expression became incredulous.

"Are you _serious_? That's the reason why you and Harry loved to go at it like an old, bitter couple?" she giggled.

Her glared at her and smoothed the front of his robes distractedly.

"We did _not_ behave as such, would you please calm yourself? I blame Potter's rejection on Weasley," he mumbled, narrowing his eyes.

"Ron? Why?"

"Because…" Draco swallowed, looking away embarrassingly. "Because Weasley had the _gall_ to laugh at my name."

In all honesty, Draco had expected for her to laugh or to make a caustic remark but she simply remained quiet. He noticed from the corner of his eye that Hermione's positioned shifted and so he willed himself to man up and look at her.

_Malfoys aren't cowards, damn it. At least not __**all**__ of us._

He almost wished he hadn't.

Her big brown eyes were focused fixedly on him, the corners of her lips downturned and there was a tiny wrinkle between her brows. His heart thudded loudly against his chest but then felt himself go cold. He recognized the expression from back in the day when news of his father's imprisonment had gone viral… or after his own trial after the war.

"I don't need your pity," he hissed, scowling fiercely at her.

_Because if a man doesn't have his pride, then what does he have left?_

She blinked slowly and her rosy lips parted, as though in surprise.

"It's not pity."

"Sure," he scoffed, surprised at the bitter resent flowing through his veins.

"Malfoy, it's _not_ pity," she repeated firmly.

He remained quiet, fully knowing he was being juvenile but what else could he do?

"I know what it's like."

"Of _course_ you do, Granger," he sneered, still refusing to look at her.

"Damn it, Draco. I'm trying to tell you that you're not the only person it's happened to!"

He felt his heart slam into his chest when she called him by his given name. She'd sounded so… passionate, sure and sweet all at the same time. His resent ebbed away only to be replaced by a light, fluttery feeling in his chest.

_How... intimate. I like it._

"Of _all_ the names my parents could have given me, they gave me Hermione. _Hermione!_ No wonder kids didn't want to be my friend, I have the name of an old biddy!" she cackled, running her fingers through her now-wild hair.

Draco couldn't help but smile and forced himself to look at her.

_Don't make her aware that she called you by your name. She probably didn't even realize it. Never have I loved my name as much as I do now._

"I mean, I understand _why_. Naming me after—"

"A character from Shakespeare's play, _A Winter's Tale_," Draco interrupted. "And from Greek mythology. More specifically, the daughter of Menelaus and Helen."

Hermione straightened up and gave him a peculiar look.

"Yes… that's right. How'd you know that?" she queried, a smile forming on her lips.

"I like to dabble in Muggle literature every now and then," he told her honestly, shrugging.

The smile widened until she was beaming at him.

"Draco! That's… _impressive_. Who would have thought?" she asked, seeming to look at him in a new light.

He smirked and winked at her, causing her to blush but not once did that smile leave her face.

_You're lapping it up, aren't you? When was the last time anybody looked at you, let alone smiled genuinely at you? You better enjoy it while you can, Malfoy. Soon, her smiles will belong to someone else._

"I like to keep busy," he murmured, looking down.

She made a noise of approval and could still feel her bloody smiling at him.

"I liked your name."

He frowned and looked up at her.

"What?"

"I like your name. It sounds very… aristocratic. It rolls off the tongue rather nicely too. Draco. Draco. Dra-co," she smiled, blushing.

Draco felt gobsmacked. For as long as he could recall, he'd received taunting looks once people learned his name followed by murmured apologies after learning his surname. But here was a girl who just confessed to _liking_ it. He really tried to block the part of his brain that was telling him to imagine her saying it to him in a sensual husky voice… or in an exhilarated higher octave.

_Stop, Malfoy. Don't even go there… no matter how tempting it may be._

"I like your name too," he cleared his throat, shifting his legs uneasily.

She quirked a brow up but doesn't respond, giving him a bright smile instead.

They remained comfortably silent and Draco took his time to look her over.

_Her hair! I haven't seen those unruly curls in years. To think one could be capable of missing such a thing. It always amused me to watch her hair get curlier and curlier in Potions. Merlin, I'd forgotten I'd even made a pastime of it. She'd always arrive relatively groomed and I'd count the minutes it took to achieve maximum volume. I believe the record was five minutes and it was never broken again. Thank Merlin for those fumes._

"We really deviated from the original topic."

Her voice snapped him out of his musings.

"We sure did," he agreed, nodding.

She leaned forward, pressing the hilt of her hand against her forehead and sighed.

"I'm such an undeserving bitch," she breathed out.

Draco actually gasped.

"_Hermione_," he reprimanded, sitting up in the chair.

"What? It's true! Molly has got to be the most loving woman and here I am, screaming at her because she has the _nerve_ to involve me in my wedding planning," she scowled. "Besides, like _you_ never called me that in your head."

Draco felt himself blush and wriggled in the chair awkwardly.

"See."

"That was years ago! Honestly."

She sighed loudly and shrugged her shoulders.

"Doesn't matter _now_."

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

"What for? It's not your fault I went mental."

"I'm sorry for behaving so atrociously and for bullying you mercilessly," he told her breathlessly.

She froze and Draco began to grow impatient, so he reached over and tugged on her arm, forcing her to look at him. He couldn't deny how deliciously soft her skin felt beneath his fingers and he also couldn't ignore the jolt that flowed from his hand to the rest of his body upon touching her.

He looked up into her eyes to see them staring at him as though he were a stranger.

"I was a bastard... although it could be argued I still am now," he murmured under his breath. "But I digress. I don't _deserve_ nor am I expecting your forgiveness, but I just had to do it. Because I truly am sorry. We might've not been friends either way, but it was enormously unjust of me to go after you the way I did. I… envied you and there was not one thing I could do about it other than the _one_ thing I knew how to do. I'm not sure if you noticed, but you were the only Muggleborn I ever went after."

Something flickered back to life in her face because her expression softened.

"I understand, Draco, and I forgive you."

"Please don't say that," he groaned, closing his eyes.

"What?"

"You're just saying it because you're such a _bloody_ kind person," he grunted.

"Am not! I'm saying it because… well…"

He opened his eyes, grim satisfaction written all over his face.

"See!"

She glowered at him and pursed her lips in thought, an action he'd seen her do for many years.

_Hmm… some things are never lost._

"It was wrong of you to do all that and you apologized. I forgave you because it would have been wrong of me to keep on punishing you for despite apologizing... and meaning it. So we're even," she smiled brightly. "Not to mention that I just want to put it _all_ where it belongs... in the past. We're relatively different people now. Hell, we've even managed to form some sort of friendship, am I right? You've changed, Draco. Because of that change, I forgive you."

Draco stared at her in disbelief.

_There is nothing you can't solve, is there Hermione?_

She blushed and looked down in embarrassment and that's when Draco realized he'd said that out loud.

_Damn it. Keep your thoughts in your head, Malfoy!_

"You're so… reasonable."

Here she glared at him.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

He was about to make a snappy retort when her gaze landed on his hand, which was still gripping her wrist. Draco felt his heart make an attempt to jump out of his throat and quickly released it, already missing the warmth and silkiness of her skin.

"Sorry," he said under his breath.

She shook her head jerkily, cheeks turning a pretty pink.

He, in turn, avoided eye contact with her until his heart settled down.

"So what are you going to do?" he asked her curiously.

"Apologize… and then apologize some more. Maybe offer to cook dinner, although Molly may not take that too kindly since my cooking is less than stellar especially when compared to hers," she smiled sheepishly.

"I _knew_ there had to be something you weren't good at," he barked a laugh.

"Hey now! It's not for a lack of trying. Believe me," she sniffed indignantly.

Draco laughed.

_It feels so good. When was the last time I laughed like this? So freely and… happily? With her, more than likely. She's the only one who makes you feel like this._

"Apologizing should do the trick. Let's just hope she's as impartial as you are when it comes to reasoning," he teased her.

She made a face at him but smiled nonetheless.

"Are you wishing me luck?"

"I am indeed. You're _sorely_ in need of luck. Hey…" he smirked impishly, grey eyes sparkling.

"Hey now," she frowned. "No potions. That wouldn't be fair on my part."

"Yes, that too."

"'Too'?" she cocked her head.

_She looks so endearing that I just want to grasp her in my arms and plant kisses all over her face._

"I'm sure it would _kill_ you buying a potion you could have just as easily made," he grinned.

She burst out laughing.

"You're right… what can I say? I enjoy doing my own wandwork. But it really wouldn't be fair. I deserve a little guilt," she sighed, growing contrite.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Hermione. You have a good heart and you'd never hurt anybody on purpose… they know that too," he told her seriously.

She gulped and nodded, looking oddly nervous.

_Facing the Weasley matriarch will __**not**__ be easy. But if anybody can get through it, it's her._

He rose up and gave her a little smile.

"Be sure to eat that salad. Poor thing looks like it's about to wilt."

She snickered and started to reach for it when she frowned.

"Hey… you didn't eat, did you?" she eyed him suspiciously.

"Er..."

That little crease appeared between her eyebrows and Draco wanted nothing more than to kiss it away.

"You should take your lunch break. I won't mind."

"Nah, I'll just eat when I get home."

"_Draco._"

"Really, there's no need to fuss. I've gone through worse," he smiled wryly. "_Eat_, Hermione. You'll need your strength for the arse kissing that's scheduled for you later."

Despite his crude words, an emotion that Draco couldn't identify crossed her face; it did, however, cause a fluttery feeling in his stomach.

She nodded and started to tuck into her salad.

"Thanks, Draco."

"You're welcome, boss," he told her, giving her a salute and walked back to his office.

Once in the safety of his office, he all but swooned into his chair.

_I can only hope she'll let me continue calling her by her name. Maybe if I don't bring it up… after all, there are only so many things I can selfishly keep. If not her, at the very least the thrill of calling her by her name._

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read! Have a wonderful Monday. :)


	15. Chapter 15

Apologizing in advance for Hermione's (continued) state of denial. It's ending soon, I promise.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

* * *

Hermione stepped out of her fireplace, bone tired and with her nerves feeling raw.

_As I predicted, it was not easy but Molly was surprisingly empathetic. Ronald, on the other hand, not so much. Of course, I deserve it. I was offensive and… demeaning to Molly, who's been nothing but welcoming and kind to me ever since meeting years ago._

Hermione collapsed on her couch, draping an arm over her eyes and sighed heavily.

_I meant my apology… so why do I still feel like undeserving scum? Possibly because Molly went too easy on me. I'll never forget the look in Ron's eyes… there has been only another instance when his eyes have flashed like blue fire and even then he was under the influence of an artifact containing Dark Magic. I hurt the woman he loves most…_

Something in Hermione's brain clicked, causing her to sit up straight and stare into the dark depths of her apartment.

"When was the last time Ron told you that he loves you?" she whispered to herself, frowning.

She wracked her brain until it found an answer: the day he proposed.

_But that was months ago… surely my memory must be faulty…_

Bitter coldness swept through her body, causing her to wrap her arms around herself.

"_How would __**you **like __it if I blew up at __**your**__ mum, Hermione?" he raged at her, tossing his arms up in the air._

She shook her head, tears stinging her eyes.

"_She has treated you like a daughter and yet you __**dare**__ to raise your voice at her?" he hissed, eyes sparkling callously. "You are nothing but an ungrateful brat!"_

"There was no way of defending myself… not that I would have tried. I deserved it," she shook her head and pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her forehead against them.

"_I never thought I'd see this side of you, Hermione. Quite frankly, I'm appalled and disappointed in you," he spat, breathing like a winded amateur runner. "I see the nasty side effects of hiring Malfoy have finally come to light."_

"He could scream and insult me all he wanted, but it was most unfair to drag Draco into our argument," Hermione reasoned, hugging her knees tightly.

"_Don't __**you**__ dare bring him up, Weasley!" she snapped._

"_Oh, I'm Weasley now, am I?" he sneered, the action worthy of the aforementioned Malfoy himself._

"_He has nothing to do with this! Why are you so intent with dragging him into every blessed argument we have?" she fumed._

"_Because he's rubbing off on you, Hermione! He pretends to be oh-so affable and hardworking, but you don't see what we __**all**__ do!" he yelled, running his fingers in frustration through the ginger mop that was his hair._

"_Oh, praytell, what is it that you all see but I'm __**so**__ vastly oblivious to?" she shouted back._

"_Don't you remember how he used to terrorize you back in Hogwarts? Do you remember the first time he called you that nasty word? Well, I do and I'm never going to forget. Ever since he skipped out on us in that midnight duel I stopped believing anything the git said. As the years passed, his behavior became even more questionable and seedier, leading up the year he almost succeeded in killing Dumbledore!" he exploded, freckles disappearing behind the angry flush that appeared on his face. "He was a sodding Death Eater, for the love of Flammel! His father was one too and his mentally unstable aunt desecrated your arm!"_

Hermione had honestly never seen Ron so disturbed nor disgusted. But she knew she would never be able to forget the expression on his face after she answered.

"_The war has changed us all, Ron; it's inevitable. But if you truly believe he's still the same little arsehole, then perhaps you really **are** the dimwit he's always proclaimed you to be."_

_He looked like a man possessed. Perhaps I was a little harsher than I should have been but how else could she get him to see how blind he was being? He was still holding on to that ridiculous childhood grudge and it's high time for him to let it go._

"_Get out," he breathed at her, avoiding looking at her. "Get out before I say something I regret."_

Hermione hadn't needed to be told twice, so she tossed Floo into The Burrow's fireplace and let herself be sucked back to her house.

_I thought he'd gotten over all of his childhood insecurities… so why is he suddenly being an arse? Men…_

Hermione pulled herself up and headed toward her bedroom.

_Merlin, I'm __**exhausted.**_

She tucked herself in bed, curled up on her side and fell into deep slumber. By some blessed miracle, Hermione managed to drag herself out of bed the next morning and showered before getting dressed to go to work.

Once there, she made a little cocoon of warmth with her arms and buried her face. Despite sleeping fully, she still felt restless and heavy.

"Hermione?"

His voice sent a warm feeling down her spine.

"Good lord, they didn't kill you and bring your lifeless body to show that the Weasleys aren't people to be reckoned with, did they?"

Hermione couldn't help but giggle at his ludicrous, if sarcastic, statement.

"Still very much alive, then. Care for some tea?"

She sat up, hunching her shoulders, and groaned.

"I think I need something a little stronger today," she admitted, looking up at him.

As ridiculous as it sounded, looking at him felt like taking a breath of fresh air to Hermione. He raised a pale brow in question, looking at her as though she were out of her mind.

"Have the body snatchers come? My boss would never_, ever _succumb to caffeine," he said, eyeing her suspiciously.

"Don't be daft," she rolled her eyes. "I had a rough night, is all."

"Told you to eat your greens, but did you listen?" he teased her.

"I'm not in the mood to get lectured. Coffee or get out of my office."

His lips twitched before releasing a short burst of laughter.

"Coffee coming right up. For Merlin's sake, you _sound_ hungover. But I'm sure you're not the type to do the kind of sinning that requires one to end up in such a state," he smirked, eyes sparkling impishly.

Hermione felt something flutter in her stomach and so she frowned, clapping her hand over it.

_It had nothing to do with the way he looked at me, nope._

He busied himself, flicking his wand almost lazily at the coffeepot when it finished brewing and hesitated as he reached for sugar.

"How _do_ you take your coffee?" he asked, whirling around to look at her.

"Not overly sugary? And with cream. Please," she smiled gratefully at him.

He mumbled something under his breath but Hermione didn't take offense at whatever it could have been and instead watched him prepare her coffee. He finally grabbed hold of her mug and brought it over to her, his eyes never once leaving the surface of the coffee.

"Thank you."

He nodded in response and watched her, something akin to anxiety in those silver eyes of his. She raised the mug to her lips and sipped carefully; it was the perfect temperature. She loved how creamy it tasted and how it wasn't tooth-rottingly sweet, just as she'd requested.

"You just won the title for Best Coffee Maker. Congratulations," Hermione joked, drinking more coffee.

He rolled his eyes although a corner of his lips quirked upwards.

"What an honor," he drawled, sounding a bit like his old self, except that the poisonous tone his voice used to have was gone.

Hermione felt the coffee warm her from her head to her toes. Although her drink of choice was usually tea, coffee was just was she needed that morning.

Draco looked like he was about to retire to his office but Hermione wasn't quite ready to let him go yet.

"Hang on, I need you to sign some papers for me."

"Sure," he nodded, promptly sitting back down.

She pointed her wand at her desk drawer and murmured the password before it sprang open. She took out a sheaf of papers nestled in a manila folder and handed it over to him.

"All these?" he raised his brow.

"It's for Kingsley."

"Ah, understood."

He lifted his hand as though he were ready to sign and just as the side of his hand touched the papers, his magnificent quill appeared between his fingers. Hermione gawked at him, awestruck at his wandless _and_ non-verbal magic.

_Well, he always did get the best marks after you. __I'm not really sure if I' should be so surprised, though. Malfoy has always been a powerful wizard, even if he didn't always use it for good._

She took this time to observe him. He wore his standard black robes but Hermione could see that he wore a deep navy shirt today, along with a black tie that looked as though it were made out of brocade. For a moment, Hermione wondered what it would feel like if she reached her fingertips out and brushed them against it.

_Would I be able to feel the warmth of his body? Perhaps his undoubtedly toned chest?_

She felt her face heat up at her improper thoughts and looked away guiltily. Hermione focused on the sound of his quill scratching against the documents.

She took a tiny sip of coffee before raising her eyes to his face. She felt lucky that he was focused on what he was signing (he was most definitely not a stupid man and was always careful what he signed his name to, even if it was for work). Otherwise, he would have most definitely noticed her ogling him.

She admired his flawless alabaster skin and wondered how many girls would have traded their magic for such perfect skin themselves. He had a graceful and straight nose and briefly wondered if he'd ever worried about breaking it back when he played for the Slytherin Quidditch team. He possessed sharp cheekbones that could turn models green with envy. His platinum hair shone under the lights, parted and styled attractively to the side. Her eyes wandered to his fair eyebrows, noticing they were a shade or two darker than his own hair and noticed that his eyelashes were darker as well.

_Good god, he has beautiful lashes! Why is it that it's always the men who have the nice ones? They're completely wasted on them. Still, I bet Draco's brush against his cheek when he closes his eyes…_

Before she knew it, his silver eyes were looking into hers.

_Oh, Merlin... I could fall headfirst into those twin pools of mercury. How did I ever think his eyes were a mere grey? There's so much more depth and warmth than one thinks is possible in them._

"Hermione? Earth to Hermione."

_Wait a moment… he called me by my name! Draco just called me Hermione! Hold on… I just referred to him as 'Draco.'_

She stared at him, a queer ardency that had nothing to do with the coffee seeping through her skin.

"Something wrong?" he frowned, a tiny crinkle appearing between his fair brows.

_Is it strange that I don't mind? That it sounds… delightfully intimate? Especially when he says it in that mellifluous voice of his._

"I'm beginning to think you're one bacon sandwich short of a picnic," he snickered, tilting his head and looking at her.

_Snap out of it or else he's going to think something is up._

"I'm fine, thank you very much," she answered wryly.

"Oh, good. Thought I was going have to point my wand at you," he smirked.

"You'll keep your _wand_ away from my fiancée, Malfoy," an outraged voice called out.

Draco rolled his eyes although his smirk grew wider still.

"Oh, goody… the fun has just arrived."

Ron strode in, his face a shade of beet. His teeth were gnashed together and he stared at Draco with an expression of deepest loathing.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy? Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"I'm not the least bit surprised that it would pass your notice, but I _am_ working. Or have you forgotten that Granger here is my boss? _I'm_ not the one who's barging impertinently into offices in a department where I don't work at," Draco retorted, sounding bored.

_How __**does**__ he do that? Remain so cool and unruffled. It's amazing and I've seen him operate that tactic for many years._

"You better watch out, ferret. Step a toe out of the line and I'll have your sodding, pitiful self fired!" he threatened, baring his teeth at Malfoy.

"_Ron!_" Hermione gasped.

He, however, kept his eyes on Malfoy who rose gracefully in a flurry of black robes and stared back at Ron coolly.

_Uh-oh._

"How on earth are you going to manage _that_, Weasley? You're going to ask your pal Potter to pull a few strings for you?" he taunted, cocking his head slightly.

Ron growled and Hermione shot up to her feet, almost knocking her empty mug over.

"Calm down you two," she said, reaching for her wand.

"Perhaps you should tell _him_ to calm down. I'm perfectly calm," he grinned nastily at Ron, whose red face turned brighter.

"Draco," she chastised.

A nerve jumped in Ron's jaw but he didn't pay attention to her otherwise.

"I'm going to be watching you, scum," Ron warned.

Draco raised his eyebrows in disbelief, lips twisted into his trademark smirk.

A tiny part of Hermione couldn't help but admire him.

"If you'll please excuse my lack of quaking in my Italian leather shoes," he told him silkily. "But I've been threatened with much worse by people who would give you nightmares for the rest of your bloody life."

A dark look stole over Draco's face and Hermione felt the room go frigid.

_Maybe Ron's right_, a small traitorous part of her thought.

"I've always known you were nothing but a vile, daddy's little boy but that just proves my point to my _fiancée_," Ron hissed triumphantly, snapping his fingers impatiently to catch Hermione's attention.

"I've always known you were nothing but a low-life cretin and this further prove _my_ point. Stop snapping your fingers at her! She's not a dog, you mongrel," Draco snapped, reaching out to bat at Ron's hand.

"Don't you dare touch me!" Ron yelped as he toppled backwards, yanking his hand away from Draco's reach.

"You should be so lucky, Weasley," Draco scoffed, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

"Really now, this is ridiculous. Don't make me cast a barrier between you two," Hermione sighed tiredly, gripping her wand even tighter.

"No need. There are papers that need looking over and owls needing to be sent. I'm going into my office to do my job," he spoke, never taking his steely gaze off Ron.

Ron's lips twisted into a jubilant smile.

"Don't think for a moment you've beat _me_, Weasley. I, unlike you, strive to be a paradigm of efficacy instead of floundering into offices, picking fights and issuing frivolous threats," Draco spoke softly, quicksilver eyes twinkling. "Now… if you'll excuse me. Hermione, you know where I'll be."

He turned on his heel and swaggered away, leaving Ron with a sickened look on his face. He didn't shut the door behind him, which went to show Hermione just how much he distrusted Ron.

Once he was gone, Ron turned to Hermione and sneered at her.

"'Hermione'? 'Draco'?" he mocked, screwing his face in repugnance.

_I knew he'd notice._

"Since when did you two get so comfortable around each other?"

"We've been colleagues for a while now, Ron. You may not trust him but I do," she told him tiredly.

"You're making a big mistake, Hermione. You trust him _so _implicitly to the point that it's revolting!"

"That's it! I've had it with you, Ronald. I'm tired of you being so distrustful of me when I've done nothing to show you otherwise! Now, get out. Get out before I make you," she growled, pointing her wand at him.

His eyes widened, his skin going so pale that his freckles stood out in contrast.

"Now!" she told him sharply.

He nodded his head meekly and stomped out the door, leaving Hermione feeling drained. With a quick flick of her wrist, she shut the door and sank into her chair.

"These men are going to be the end of me," she murmured to herself, eyeing the sliver of space on the doorway between her and Draco's offices.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Have a wonderful day. :)


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Draco sat himself in the darkest corner of the Leaky Cauldron and ordered the strongest drink available. He slumped forward in his seat and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing tiredly.

_At least it's over now._

He'd known it wouldn't have been easy and it truly hadn't; Astoria had put up quite a fight but backed down when Draco gave in and confessed to loving Hermione. The look of pure anguish her face was one he knew wouldn't be easy to forget.

_What else could I have told her? I wasn't about to behave like a bastard for the hell of it. Being honest was hurtful enough._

He recalled the way her green eyes widened and the way her chin trembled and groaned inwardly. Draco had never been particularly good at dealing with emotional women, probably due to the fact that his mother had been nothing more than an ice queen during (most of) his life.

The barmaid brought over his drink and gave him a little wink before sauntering off. That would have normally amused Draco but he wanted nothing to do with women at the moment.

He idly wondered if the Leaky Cauldron would get packed; it was a Saturday night, after all.

_Still, I'm sure there are nicer bars around here. Perhaps I'd be better off there… or not. I'm sure somebody would make a pitiful attempt to hit on me. Besides, I'm sure Astoria will want to drown her sorrows too, so maybe I'd better off staying here._

He sighed yet again and watched the dim light filter through his drink when he heard the door of the pub open. He had his back to it, so he wasn't able see who entered but the girlish giggles he heard were telling enough. He rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his drink, grimacing as it burned its way down his esophagus.

_Maybe ten more and I should be good to go._

"Come _on_, Hermione! That bloke looked like he wanted to give you more than just his number!" a loud voice giggled.

Draco stiffened and gripped the glass tightly, listening as the group burst into raucous laughter.

_There aren't many women by the name of 'Hermione' in the wizarding world. What could she possibly be doing here…? And with a gaggle of women by the sound of it, no less. _

"Give me a break! You know he only talked to me because I'm _War Heroine_ Hermione Granger," she scoffed, ordering a drink.

"Oh, yeah, it had _nothing_ to do with the way you look," a familiar voice tittered.

_Wait a minute, little Weasley's here too? The plot thickens. But more importantly, how does Hermione look?_

"What's wrong with the way I look?" he heard her ask, picturing her frowning and looking down at herself.

"Nothing, really… aside from the fact that you look like a tasty little morsel," Red told her and he could picture her freckled face grinning salaciously.

_Alright, now I __**have**__ to look._

Draco turned and caught sight of the group of women donning dresses and high heels discretely as possible. He sighed and turned a bit more, hoping to get a look at Hermione. After the group of women ordered shots, they all giggled and Draco couldn't help but roll his eyes.

_So much bloody estrogen. How does she put up with it? _

"Here's to the future Mrs. Ronald Bilius Weasley! May your sex be as riotous as your fights!" he heard the youngest Weasley crow.

The group burst into guffaws and wolf whistles and he could almost picture Hermione's flushed faced, glaring at her soon-to-be sister in law.

A part of Draco couldn't help but feel jealous that he'd never get to be _close_ to her, let alone have sex with Hermione.

_But it's not just about sex, though. I want __**all**__ of her. Her musings, her feelings… everything she'll give, I'll greedily take. Merlin, I really must love her if I don't want her for a simple shag. Let's be honest, Draco, you've known for a long time that you weren't after her for the sex._

He sighed yet again and quietly ordered another drink. Draco pondered whether he should order a drink for Hermione but abstained from doing so; from the sound of it, she'd been receiving plenty of free drinks for most of the night.

He heard their group gossip among themselves, listening as the littlest Weasley called out to Hermione.

"So, is this everything you've pictured your bachelorette party to be?"

"It is, thank you so much, Ginny," she said and Draco could practically hear her smile. "Although, it's a bit similar to a Muggle one…"

"Ooh… what's missing from turning this into a Muggle bachelorette party?"

"Well…"

He could hear her hesitancy and grinned.

_Oh, this **has** to be good._

"Speak up, woman!" littlest Weasley demanded.

_Hmm… I'm not so sure she's a Weasley anymore, though. Potter-Weasley's too long, though. As is littlest Weasley… Red it is._

She began to explain in softer tones how it was customary to make the bride-to-be wear a (plastic) tiara and some sort of sash and that there were phallic-shaped paraphernalia involved. He heard Red cackle, undoubtedly getting ready to go off search for such things.

"Also… typically there's a man who strips and gives a lap dance to the soon-to-be bride," she told Red in an even quieter tone.

Draco almost choked on his drink and had to thump his chest before it all went down smoothly.

"No way! We _have_ to do that now!" Red giggled boisterously.

"Ginny, no! I don't think Ron would like that very much…"

"Sod him, then! This is _your_ night and if you want half naked men dancing for you, then you shall have half naked men dancing for you!"

The whole pub quieted at her boisterous statement and turned to look at them. Draco was shaking in his seat, laughing as quietly as he dared in order to avoid being spotted.

_Still… as amusing as it would be, I don't like the sound of that. Why should a stranger get to sensually rub himself against her when there's zero chance of me ever being able to? Seems unfair to me. Alright, maybe I feel that way because I'd be terribly jealous of any man who'd within arm's length of her, period._

"Ginny!" Hermione hissed. "Calm down! Maybe I should cut you off already…"

Red whined and Hermione heaved a sigh.

"Look, I need to go to the loo. I'll be right back… _behave_ yourself," she told her in a motherly tone.

Draco didn't have enough time to snicker at her clear implication when he realized she'd have to pass his table on the way to the loo. He panicked, considering casting a Disillusionment Charm and even a Glamour Charm. However, he heard a pair of heels headed his way before he could even decide and closed his eyes, praying that if he remained quiet and still enough she wouldn't notice him.

"Draco?" she asked, coming to a sudden stop by his side.

He exhaled loudly and opened his eyes slowly. Hermione stared at him with a baffled expression although there was a smile curling around the edge of her lips. Draco gaped at her, taking all of her in. She looked scrumptious indeed. She wore an aubergine hued dress that fit like second skin; it was sleeveless and hit above the knee, showing off her smooth skin in all its glory. It had a sideways diamond cut-out on her chest, resting above her breasts, a thin strip of material running vertically, thus cutting the shape in half; the neckline of her dress, in turn, had a bit of a high collar.

"Draco?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

He swallowed thickly.

"Granger," he told her, trying to sound as blasé possible.

"What are you doing here?" she questioned, crossing her arms under her breasts.

He watched as they got pushed up with the motion, jiggling slightly and groaned inwardly.

_Look at her face. Her face, you ferret!_

"Celebrating," he smiled wryly, raising his empty glass.

The barmaid immediately brought him a fresh drink before giving Hermione a less than pleasant look and stalking off. Hermione snorted and shook her head before focusing on Draco once more.

"What a coincidence... so am I," she told him, eyeing his drink.

He grinned humorlessly.

"I doubt it. By the sound of it, you're celebrating entering marriage while I'm celebrating getting _out _of it," he smirked, feeling intense relief at speaking the words out loud.

Her mouth sprung open and she plopped herself unceremoniously across from him, likely forgetting that her breasts were displayed more than usual.

"You… what? What happened?" she whispered, leaning forward.

He felt his eyes glance at her chest before focusing on her face once more. She didn't wear much makeup although her eyes looked more made up than usual. It was subtle but very attractive, all in all.

"I broke off my engagement to Astoria," he told her, taking a sip of his drink.

Her eyes stared into his and he felt as though she might have been trying to use Legilimency on him.

"But… why?"

He smirked and gave a little chuckle.

"Because she deserves better," he shrugged.

A little crease appeared between her brows as she stared at him, clearly trying to make sense of his words.

"But—"

"So here I am," he smiled grimly, raising his glass once more.

"Aren't you… sad?" she frowned.

Draco stilled and pursed his lips in thought.

"Should I be?" he shrugged.

Hermione looked mildly outraged for a moment, something Draco found amusing.

"What about her?"

"Her who?" he asked, playing innocent.

"Her… your ex-fiancée… _Astoria_!" she said, practically spitting the name out.

"What about her?" Draco asked, leaning forward and watching her intently.

She blushed at the intensity of his gaze and leaned back, swallowing nervously.

"Stop that! You're going in circles," she groaned, glaring at him.

"Am I confusing the brightest witch of her age?" he smiled gleefully.

She gave him a look before leaning forward slightly again.

"Don't you feel…" she trailed off, thinking of an appropriate word to use.

Draco sighed and finished his drink, setting the glass down louder than expected to snap her out of her reverie. She jumped slightly in her seat and stared unabashedly at him.

"Are you… are you drunk?" he grinned, cocking his head slightly.

Color rose in her cheeks and she stuck her chin out defiantly.

"Am not!"

"Really? You sure look like it," he chuckled, leaning forward.

"I'm just… surprised."

"Why is that?" he asked her, feeling genuinely curious.

She gave him a searching look before looking down at the table, furrowing her brows together.

"I don't understand why you'd break your engagement. She looks… like she would be your perfect pair; physically, I mean. Although I'm sure she'd match your intellect well. Oh, bugger… I _am_ drunk," she groaned, dropping her forehead into her palm. "By all means, feel free to stop my rambling."

Draco chuckled quietly and watched her, finding her endearing even in her less than sober state.

"It's not very becoming, Granger," he teased her, tutting.

She snapped her eyes open and glared at him before turning to the barmaid and ordering two of what Draco had been drinking. She set the drinks on the table, not once looking at Hermione and left.

Hermione raised the glass, motioning for Draco to do the same. He sighed with fake annoyance, lazily lifting his glass and looked expectantly at her.

"To love. May we find it even if we lose it."

Draco hid his smirk and nodded as solemnly as possible, clinking his glass against hers before taking a long drink.

"You know, that made absolutely no sense."

She pooched her bottom lip out, giving him drunken Crup eyes.

"I just meant that we should always be hopeful to find love, even if we've just lost it."

Draco's heart fluttered in his chest and refused to give his feelings away.

"I'm guessing that's directed towards me?" he asked her, cocking his head slightly.

"It's directed toward anybody who wants to find love," she shrugged, taking a dainty sip.

"But what if we've already found it?" he whispered silkily, unable to stop himself from staring at her feverishly.

She seemed to freeze for a moment before swallowing audibly.

"Then you take it and never let it go," she whispered huskily.

Draco repressed a shiver but felt his lips part, exhaling softly.

_She's getting married, you idiot. Cut your losses and go._

"If only some of us were so lucky," he chuckled ruefully, shaking his head and looking away.

"I'm confused."

He turned the glass in his hands but glanced up and gave a nod for her to continue.

"I thought… don't you love her?"

_To be honest… or not. _

"I don't. I told you, Hermione, it's rare that purebloods marry for love."

Draco wasn't sure if she was aware of it or not, but she gave a little sigh when he said her name and it sent sparks right to his heart.

She ordered another drink for herself and Draco glared at her.

"I think you've had enough," he told her firmly.

She pouted and moved her glass out of his reach.

"I have so little chances to have fun and when I finally do, you're the one being all adult-like and responsible," she pouted.

Draco laughed softly and nodded.

"Who would have thought?"

"Not me, that's for sure. You look like the type who sins impenitently," she murmured, taking a drink.

He grinned and leaned forward eagerly, watching as her words sank into her brain.

"I mean… that's not…" she blushed, looking around wildly.

"It's okay. Mercifully, I know what you meant."

"Maybe I _should_ stop drinking," she uttered, biting her lip.

_That lip, that full, tempting lip…_

"Hermione!"

She looked up and Draco heard Red approach.

"We're all going to— hey, Malfoy!" she giggled, eyeing them both curiously.

Draco nodded coolly at her.

"What is it, Ginny?"

"Oh, it's just that we're all calling it a night. You don't mind, do you? If you want, I can stay with you for a while longer…"

"No, no! It's okay. I've had enough fun to last me a while. Thanks, though," Hermione smiled brightly at her friend.

"Do you need help Apparating or…" she trailed off, glancing suggesively at Draco.

"No, I'm fine. _Really._ You get home safe, alright?" Hermione said, standing up and embracing the redheaded woman.

Draco got an eyeful of her luscious arse and bit back a groan.

"You too. If you need anything just send a Patronus and I'll be here. Goodnight! Malfoy," Red nodded again, glancing at the pair of them one last time before walking away.

Draco couldn't believe his luck and resisted the urge to smile like a loon.

"_Are_ you okay to Apparate home, Granger?"

"I'll be fine," she nodded, waving her hand around carelessly. "I'll just finish this drink here and be on my way."

She smacked her lips in satisfaction before setting down galleons on the table. Hermione rose to her feet and swayed for a second before steadying herself; she gave a little salute to Draco before walking off.

He watched her go before his brain kicked in and told him he shouldn't just let her go like that.

_Who knows what trouble she'd get herself in? Especially looking like that and in that state._

He paid his tab and followed after her, craning his neck to look for her. His heart thumped unevenly in his chest as the thought of losing her entered his mind.

_Surely she can't have gone far? But what if she Apparated already? Maybe she splinched herself and is in a ditch in Merlin knows where..._

Thankfully, his eyes finally found her leaning forlornly against a wall and he stalked to her.

"Where do you think you're going in that state?" he scolded her, standing to his full height.

She rolled her eyes and straightened, making Draco notice that she was closer to his stature in heels.

"I'm fine. Really."

"You are not, Granger. Would you please allow me to see you home?"

She gave him an odd look before leaning back against the wall once more.

"Are you dizzy?"

Her eyes fluttered close and she nodded.

"A little bit."

Draco resisted the urge to sigh exasperatedly but got a brilliant idea.

"Do you trust me?"

She frowned and opened her eyes, looking at him blearily.

"What?"

"Do you trust me, Hermione?"

She stared at him for a long moment, moonlight reflecting against her face.

"I trust you, Draco," she whispered, offering him a tiny smile.

Warmth flowed through his veins at her words and smiled tenderly at her, taking a gentle hold of her arm and Disapparating with a _pop!_

They arrived in his flat and he sat her down carefully, as though she were the most precious thing to him ever.

_Which isn't far from the truth… goodness, since when have I become such a pathetic sap?_

"Where are we?"

"We're in my flat. I brought you here since I don't know where you live and I didn't want you to get splinched, or worse," he frowned. "So I'm going to pump you full of caffeine until you're sober again."

She groaned and leaned back into his sofa, closing her eyes.

"Not fair," she slurred.

"Don't fall asleep on me," he warned, magicking his coffee pot and sitting by her side.

"'m not."

"You are too. You're not even speaking coherently!"

"You're far too coherent," she sighed, cracking an eye to look at him.

"I didn't drink that much. Besides, I'm sure I handle my alcohol much better than you," he reasoned, sitting as close to her as he dared.

She made a noise of derision at the back of her throat but didn't reply otherwise. Draco watched her, fascinated despite her less than sober state.

_Merlin, she's beautiful. Weasley could live a thousand lifetimes and still not deserve her. The same could be argued for me, really._

"Hermione? You better not be asleep."

"I'm not, Draco. Just resting my eyes…"

He chuckled and shook her gently, reveling in the feel of the silken skin of her shoulder.

"You smell that?"

"Yes… coffee has never smelled so appealing. I'll never drink again," she moaned, raising a hand to gently massage her temple.

"I'll hold you to that."

"Draco?" she whispered, eyes still closed.

"Yes?"

"Thank you," she smiled, turning her head limply and finally opening her eyes.

There was a slight haze in them but were bright and warm as they watched Draco.

"You're welcome. But don't tell too many people. Can't have you ruining my reputation."

"Oh?"

"Big bad ex Death Eater," he explained, shrugging.

She scowled and forced herself upright but ended up swaying, almost doing a nosedive into Draco's lap. As much as he would've liked that, he knew it wouldn't be right to take advantage of her when she's not in command of all of her senses... or her brain.

"That's rubbish!" she cried angrily, gripping his forearms tightly.

Her fierce loyalty warmed the cockles of his cold heart.

Countless cups of coffee and disjointed conversation later, she'd finally regained her bearings for the most part.

A pink blush crept up on her cheeks as she eyed him shyly.

"Thank you, Draco. You certainly didn't have to do this."

"I know," he shrugged, giving his best shot at nonchalance.

"Well… I'll be off now."

Funnily enough, she remained in the same spot.

"I'm sorry about your engagement," she finally told him, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek.

But before Draco could get a chance to reply, she had Disapparated. He stared at the spot, already feeling the loss of her presence. His cheek felt warm, tingles running through his body and Draco pressed trembling fingers against the very spot she'd pressed her lips.

_If there was any room for doubt previously... I can confidently proclaim beyond a shadow of a doubt that I'm most definitely, irrevocably in love with Hermione Granger. Oh, bother._

* * *

Ah, one engagement broken, one more to go. Coming up next...

Thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

This is it! Gird your loins, people.

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

* * *

Hermione stared at herself in the mirror, turning this way and that every so often.

_So this is what it feels like to be the bride._

Despite the fact that Hermione was waiting in the church with the ceremony minutes away from commencing, she couldn't help but feel a sort of detachment toward it all.

_That's probably because I was never particularly interested in marriage. I mean, doesn't every little girl plan her doll's wedding one point in her childhood? I never did that. I always found books infinitely more appealing than organizing a wedding for my toys. As a matter of fact, I used to read **to** them more than I used them. But I digress. M__aybe I feel like this because Molly and Fleur practically planned every aspect of this wedding out for me. I would have done it myself but I knew I would have done a poor job of it and that's when they offered. I mean, it's not like I forced them, right? So despite everything being approved by me, it all feels vaguely impersonal._

A bloom of insecurity suddenly twisted her heart.

_What if… no. No, no… a thousand times no. You __**love**__ Ron, Hermione! You've been dating him for the past five years and fancied him for just as long! You cannot back out now. You're just nervous. The distance and coldness between you two is what has__ you hesitating. But that doesn't mean you don't love Ron. Besides, every couple has their fair share of disagreements. You __**knew**__ that those wouldn't be lacking when you began a relationship with him. Think of all the rows you had with him in the Gryffindor common room. You're making a bigger deal out of things than what they really are. As the years pass, Ron's bound to mature. Besides, if you had any real doubt, you wouldn't be standing in a church wearing a wedding dress._

She swallowed heavily and looked at her pallid face.

"The man who loves you is out there, waiting for you. Don't you let him down," she told her reflection firmly.

_Just because your relationship has been rocky, it doesn't mean it'll be like that forever. It'll pass. I love Ronald Weasley and he loves me. __**He **__would never dream of deserting me._

That seemed to assure her so she flashed a quick, reassuring smile at her reflection.

"Good lord, I've gone barmy," she muttered under her breath. "Still, I do look quite pretty."

Pretty would have been an understatement. Despite her nerves, Hermione looked beautiful. Sure, the style of her dress wasn't to her particular liking but it _was_ stunning. She felt like a princess thanks to the voluminous skirt of the dress, sparkling with every movement she made. It seemed as though diamonds were embedded between the many layers of the frothy fabric. The bodice was strapless and embroidered with pearls and glimmering bits.

Initially, there'd been a bit of controversy over the fact that the dress was sleeveless; Molly had voiced her concerns about the word that was etched on the inside of Hermione's forearm and said that perhaps guests would be scared or curious. But Hermione didn't care. In fact, she was damn bloody proud of that scar and wouldn't let any sort of sleeve cover it up on her wedding day. Molly accepted Hermione's refusal quietly and thus the wedding planning continued.

_I don't think Molly was suggesting that I be ashamed of it but maybe she thought it would make me feel ill at ease. I __**know**__ people will be curious and stare and maybe even ask how I got it, but I refuse to be humiliated about it._

Hermione fingered the satin sash that was tied around her waist, which had been tied into a bow and cascaded down the back of her dress. No matter how much she arched to try to get a look, she wasn't able to see the bow but Fleur had continually assured her that it was perfectly knotted.

Her fingers traveled up to the dainty pearl necklace strung around her throat and smiled.

_Mum was too kind in giving it to me. I'm sure she was a little more than relieved to hand it over to me considering that it's been passed from mother to daughter. Looks like it'll be in my hands before it's my turn to pass it on._

She wore a matching set of earrings, which gleamed softly in the light. Sitting atop her head was a tiny, shining tiara and connected to that was her veil. Hermione wore a simple hairstyle as to not detract from the beauty of the tiara and veil, Fleur had explained. But despite her best protests, they'd put a full face of makeup on her. Now, it's not that Hermione was against it, but looking at the mirror, it felt as if she wore a mask. Still, she couldn't deny that she looked flawless; wide eyes, rosy lips and flushed cheeks that screamed 'bride' (at least according to Ginny).

Hermione had outright denied the pair of dangerous looking high heels offered her, instead choosing to wear some flats. The blonde grumbled at first but then quickly agreed when Hermione brought up the possibility that she could fall flat on her face and ruin all of Fleur's hard work.

And so there she stood, alone and nervous, twisting her engagement ring around her finger.

_I wonder what Draco's doing._

A flash of surprise swept through Hermione at the thought.

_This is the wrong time to be thinking of him. Instead, you should be focusing on your soon-to-be husband. Is he nervous? Of course he is. Ron's always been uneasy when it comes to large crowds. I bet he looks ridiculously handsome in his tuxedo, even if it hadn't been his outfit of choice. I mean, we're mostly doing this wedding the Muggle way. It would look a bit weird to have him wearing robes in church. He finally gave in when I told him he could wear robes for the reception, which will be held at the Burrow since it seems to be the Weasley standard._

Still, Draco continued to pop up in her thoughts.

_Stop it! Of all the times to pop up… stop messing with my head. Quit flashing that smile that's only seen by me. Those silvery eyes, smoldering when we lock gazes._

"I feel nothing for Draco Malfoy. I love my fiancé," she told herself stiffly.

But as she stared at herself, Hermione felt cold dread sweeping through her veins as the abrupt thought of _I don't want to do this_ flashed through her head. A wave of panic hit her suddenly, leaving her reeling and Hermione staggered back. She clutched the skirts of her dress, staring around wildly as she felt the room become smaller.

_I can't... this isn't..._

A light knock on the door caught her attention, distracting her from her ensuing horror.

"Mione? Can I come in?"

She let out a deep breath and turned to stare at the door in astonishment.

"Ron? What are you…?"

He opened the door quickly and shut it quietly behind it. He let out a tense breath of air and turned to look at her. His expression immediately softened as his eyes took her in.

"Mione…" he breathed out. "Merlin's beard, you look… beautiful."

She felt herself blush with pleasure and looked down humbly. But something nagged at her.

"Wait a minute, you're not supposed to be here Ron! It's bad luck to see the bride!" she hissed at him, making shooing motions with her hands.

"I _am_ the luckiest sod ever."

"Ron," she reprimanded, glaring at him.

He shook his head as though to clear his thoughts and looked at her intently. Her stomach churned at the urgency in his eyes.

"What is it?" she whispered, imagining the worst. "Did something happen out there? Is everybody okay?"

"Mione, no, everything is fine. Everybody is okay," he assured her, reaching out to grasp her hands.

"Oh. What… why are you here, then?" she queried, looking up at his face.

"Mione."

She swallowed the lump that knotted her throat as his eyes revealed everything she wanted to know.

"I love you, you know that. I have loved you… for years. You were my beacon of light where there was nothing but darkness," he smiled fondly at her.

Her body grew cold despite that his hands were comfortably warm.

"We've grown up; tough not to do when we had no other choice. But…" his voice wavered. "I think we've been growing _apart_ these past months."

Hermione felt her heart plummet down to her toes at the truth in his words.

"I rushed us into this and there's nobody else to blame but me," he confessed guiltily.

"What do you mean?" she choked out.

His lips trembled but he continued to look back at her, grasping her hands even tighter in his own.

"I proposed to you out of pure selfishness. I'd ran into Collins in Diagon Alley ages ago and he'd told me about how you and Malfoy spent the entire evening chatting in your own little bubble. Y'know, _that_ evening. I'm not going to lie, Mione, it _hurt_. But I let my jealousy get the worst of me and I got the harebrained idea to ask you to marry me. I immediately went to mum, who was nothing short of ecstatic, and wrote to everybody to meet at the Burrow so I could propose. The quicker it happened, the faster you'd be mine."

Hermione felt speechless and stared blankly at Ron, who swallowed thickly. All of a sudden, his hands felt overwhelmingly hot and she wanted nothing more than to pull hers away but he held on tight.

"But instead of feeling entirely happy when you said yes, I also felt equally guilty and disgusted with myself. How could I fool you into marrying me when there were less than innocent motives behind it?" he groaned, closing his eyes for a few seconds. "My paranoia concerning Malfoy grew. I was so jealous I could have probably spit fire at the sight of him. It didn't help that the bastard hardly responded and only worsened the closer you got to him. I think, however, that the cherry on the cake was listening to him call you by your name and you by his. That almost killed me."

Hermione's numbness slowly started to fade and soon her veins felt like they'd been emptied of blood and replaced with scorching lava instead.

"I used you, Hermione and I can't forgive myself. I asked you to marry me for all the wrong reasons. Thinking back, had I waited a little longer… things would have probably turned out alright."

His blue eyes, sparkling with unshed tears, never once wavered from her face. But somehow, Hermione wasn't the least bit inclined to feel for him.

"Mione? Are you in shock? Say something," he urged her, shaking her gently.

"Were you _ever _planning to propose?" she whispered dazedly.

"Yes. It was never my intention to _not _make you my wife."

"I see."

"Is that all you've got to say?"

"There's _a lot_ I would like to tell you, Ronald Bilius Weasley. However, the foremost thought that comes to me is…" her voice broke, "…what an absolutely selfish arse you are."

He didn't look too shocked at her words and even nodded in agreement.

"I know, Hermione. I'm _so_ sorry."

She pulled her hands away in revulsion and gave him the fiercest scowl she could manage.

"You proposed to me because you felt jealous and insecure! Who does that?" she hissed, gritting her teeth together to keep from shouting or bawling. "Not only have you broken my trust, but you've broken my illusion of you."

"Hermione—"

"No! Stop it! I'm tired of excuses, Ron!" she sobbed. "Maybe you're right. Perhaps if you had waited, there would have been a chance for us to actually be happy and grow together despite our differences."

He sighed in relief and even gave her a weak little smile.

"I knew you'd—"

"But there is _no_ way that is ever happening now," she told him stonily.

His face went slack with surprise, pale eyebrows furrowed.

"Your proposal was a mistake and there's no way I'm committing an even disastrous one by staying with you. Maybe you're right. We _are_ too different and not in a good way. Who knows what'd be headed for us down the line? Bitterness? Hatred? I don't want to ever reach a point where I'd grow to resent you, Ron. I've loved you for a little over half of my life and it would sadden me to push away the comical, strong and loyal boy I once knew. I love you and I always will but I don't think I've been _in_ love with you for a while now," she whispered, feeling the cold tears roll down her overly hot cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Ron. But I can't go through with this now... or ever."

His own tears trickled out and he attempted to wipe them away in vain, only to have more roll down.

"Mione… I won't let anything blind me anymore. I'll do right by you, if only this once," he croaked, clearing his throat.

"It's the least you could do," she whispered angrily.

"Can I… can I ask you something?" he asked hesitantly.

She gave her head a vague jerk, which Ron took as an affirmative.

"Do you love him?"

She had expected any question but that one.

"No, I don't."

_Don't you? _her heart whispered treacherously.

Even if he looked slightly haggard, Ron managed to sigh in relief.

"You deserve better than him," he nodded, clasping his hands together.

She fixed him with cold stare that made him fidget.

"Okay, so it's really none of my business."

"Not anymore, no."

"I _am_ sorry, Mione," he whispered.

She looked down and sighed, shaking her head slightly.

"I'm sorry too, Ron. More than you'll ever know," Hermione lamented through trembling lips.

"I'll… take care of everything. Don't you worry," he guaranteed her.

"Can you?" she quipped acerbically, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.

He blushed brightly but nodded.

"Thank you, Ron," she whispered softly, raising her hand to touch his cheek lightly.

The diamond in her ring glinted almost mockingly and Hermione lowered her hand and slipped it off her finger. She took Ron's hand and pressed it into his palm, who stared at it with his lips pressed into a thin line before curling his fingers around it. Their eyes met for a few seconds before he turned, leaving without another word.

Hermione lifted her heavy skirt hastily, knowing everybody would be crashing in there any second. She'd stowed her wand under her garter and reached for it, letting her skirt fall and raised her wand, concentrating of the first place that came to mind. None too early because just seconds after Apparating, Molly and Ginny crashed into the room and stared around wildly.

Her skirt fell to the floor with a _thud_ as she let herself catch her breath.

_Hang on…_

She straightened up and looked down the empty hallway and at the number that hung on the dark wooden floor.

_Did his… was his flat really the first place I thought of? I mean, I was in panic, after all. What am I doing here? Why didn't I go to my own place? _

_Well, that would be because there's no doubt that they're all thinking I would hide out there. _

Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken as she hesitantly raised her hand to knock.

_Quickly, before someone spots the madwoman in a wedding dress outside the handsome young man's door._

She knocked hurriedly but after several long moments a horrible thought struck her.

_What if he isn't home? Oh, Merlin… I can't go home and I certainly can't break into his place. Of all the times… looks like I'll have to go to plan b. Okay, now think __of__ a plan b, Hermione._

Just as she started to turn away, the door was swung open to reveal an irritable-looking Draco. But once he caught sight of her his expression fell, soft pink lips parting slightly and silver eyes gone wide and stared at her as though he'd never seen her before in his life.

"Hermione," he breathed out. "What are you… why are you here?"

"Let me in, won't you? It's urgent."

He looked down at her dress and then up into her eyes before nodding and stepped aside, holding the door wide open for her.

"Thanks," she murmured as she squeezed through his doorway, feeling secure once she heard the _click_ of the lock.

She expected him to bombard her with questions but was quite surprised when he didn't.

"Care for a drink?"

"Yes, please," she whispered raggedly, hearing her heart pound away in her ears.

He strode into his kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Odgen's Old, pouring it into two short glasses.

Since she couldn't really quite sit comfortably in her wedding gown, she walked toward the kitchen and leaned against the counter. He pushed her glass towards her and watched her as she gripped it, gently tapping his against hers and murmuring _cheers._ Draco finished his drink in one go and so Hermione took a sip and spluttered.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine… never drank straight firewhiskey before," she coughed, pressing her hand against her chest.

She suspected he smirked but didn't look up to see for herself, downing the rest of her drink instead.

"Not bad for a first time. _Now…_ why are you here? Aren't you supposed to getting married somewhere?"

"I ran out."

His eyes watched her seriously and when she remained silent did they start to widen again.

"You ran out on Weasley?" he whispered, awestruck.

"Kind of… but not really. He… sort of snuck in to the room I was waiting and proceeded to tell me that although he _did_ want to marry me, the only reason he proposed was because… because… he's a jealous prat."

Draco blinked before his face crumpled in confusion.

"He _loves_ you, right?"

"He does. But his love had nothing to do with the proposal. He did out of selfishness because Collins had told him about that night in the Leaky Cauldron and likely assumed that you wanted to snatch me from him… he didn't propose to me because he loves me, Draco," she whispered hoarsely, feeling a new wave of tears roll down her cheeks.

"That foul bastard," he uttered furiously. "I never expected him to be so bloody insecure! Apparently I thought too highly of him."

"He went on to tell me that we've grown apart, which is true enough, but then, as though to stick the knife in further, told me that maybe we could have been better had he _waited to_ propose," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

Before she knew it, Hermione was being held in Draco's arms. Truth be told, it felt good to be held with such warmth and care that it made her sob even louder. Draco merely tightened his grip on her and murmured soothing words to her, pressing his cheek atop the crown of her head.

"I loved him! I loved him and he… lied to me," she gasped, grasping fistfuls of his shirt.

"He doesn't deserve you," he whispered unsympathetically.

His comment sent her over the edge and caused her to start bawling.

"It will all be okay, Hermione. Let it all out. I'm here for you," he murmured tenderly, pressing her closer to him despite her volumous skirt.

Hermione didn't know how much time she spent in his arms crying; it could have been minutes or hours for all it mattered. But she pulled away as soon as her hiccups dissipated, wiping her face and feeling mortified over breaking down in front of Draco.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, looking down ashamedly.

"There's absolutely nothing you should be sorry for," he told her, gently raising her chin so she could look at him.

His grey eyes were soft and his smile was kind, effectively flooding Hermione with affection for him.

"I hope that sodding weasel goes and…" he trailed off, mumbling the last to himself.

Hermione sighed tiredly and attempted to smile.

"I suppose it's my fault too."

"Merlin, you didn't tell him _yes_ because you caught him flirting with a woman, did you?" he eyed her warily.

"Of course not," she frowned, shaking her head.

He let out a sigh of relief and nodded.

"Good. So why do you suppose it's your fault too?"

"I got too comfortable with him, even after noticing that we weren't exactly getting along."

"Have you two _ever_ gotten along?" he questioned, arching a brow.

"There were bouts of peace but then something or other would happen and…"

"The spell would be broken," he guessed, looking at her sadly.

She nodded and heaved a sigh.

"I _knew_ that things weren't right. So what lead me to believe that our issues could be fixed with a marriage?" Hermione scowled at her flawed logic.

"You wanted to believe that the _love _the two of you had would bring you together and mend it. That's what," he told her softly.

Hermione whimpered and bit her lip painfully to stop.

"Don't. It's only natural to grieve," he whispered to her, brushing his fingertips tenderly against her cheek.

She felt tiny flutters in her stomach at his warm touch and swallowed thickly.

"You make it sound like somebody died."

He ached his eyebrow, questioning her.

"Our love… died," Hermione sighed and closed her eyes.

But instead of bursting into tears again, Hermione simply exhaled loudly and let the part of her that loved Ron go. It wasn't easy, but it was the right thing to do.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, his fingertips fluttering over her forehead and cheeks.

She opened her eyes and crooked the corner of her lips in what could pass as a smile.

"I will be," she assured him quietly.

He smiled fondly at her and Hermione felt something blazing and quivery in her stomach again.

"You look beautiful, by the way," he smiled crookedly at her.

His face brightened so that Hermione felt a jolt run through her body at the sight of him. Not to mention that he looked (as) casual (as Draco could be) but handsome all the same. He wore dark charcoal slacks and a black oxford shirt with his sleeves rolled up and a few buttons unbuttoned near the top; it gave her a peek of his toned chest. She felt herself blush and looked up at him again as he, in turn, watched her curiously.

_Respond you ninny! He just complimented you! He's obviously wondering if that firewhiskey has gone to your head._

"Thank you, although I'm sure you're being a little too kind. I saw the amount of makeup they spackled on my face and I _know_ it can't all still be in place," she answered, suddenly overwhelmed by self-consciousness. "Maybe I should just wash it off for once and for all."

"_Mi casa es tu casa_."

A giggle bubbled from her mouth, eliciting a smile from him.

"The restroom is on the… left, right?" she asked, raising her arm to point.

"Correct," he nodded at her and then glanced casually down his hallway.

His eyes, however, snapped back to her arm. Hermione belatedly realized that he was staring at the 'Mudblood' that his aunt engraved on her inner arm. He froze, his eyes never leaving the scar.

"Draco?"

He even seemed to have stopped breathing.

"It's just a scar, Draco. It doesn't hurt anymore," she told him soothingly.

That seemed to snap him out of it.

"I'd… I'd never seen it this close before," he uttered in a hollow tone.

"I tend to keep it covered for work," she explained. "I know the stares would never stop if I didn't."

"Sorry," he mumbled apologetically, tearing his eyes away.

"It's okay. I don't mind. I do it so I don't make people uncomfortable," she shrugged.

He frowned, looking the very picture of confusion.

"You… don't mind?"

"No," she told him honestly.

"You don't mind having a _filthy, monstrous _word forever scarred on your skin?" he asked slowly, as though making sure they're talking about the same thing.

"There's nothing for me to be ashamed of. It's what I am."

Hermione watched him lick his lips and then stare at the scar in question.

"You, Hermione Granger, are not only the brightest witch of our age but also _the _bravest," he breathed out shakily.

"Draco?" she asked worriedly, watching the parade of emotions flood through his face.

"I couldn't even _look_ at you!" he choked out, doubling over.

"Draco!" Hermione cried, leaning down to grasp his arms. "What are you talking about?"

"The sound of your screams sickened me to my core but I didn't do anything to keep her from torturing you. I'm _so _sorry, Hermione. I was a worthless coward! Long after you left, I could still hear your cries ringing through the air. I couldn't sleep, couldn't eat and couldn't forgive myself for almost watching you die before me…" Draco wept, falling to his knees.

"Draco, there was nothing you could have done to stop her. Even if you had attempted, I'm sure she wouldn't have batted an eyelash before torturing you as well," she whispered, going down on her knees and holding him tightly. "Or worse."

_Perish the thought._

"I was still a coward, Hermione. I couldn't kill Dumbledore and I couldn't tell Aunt Bella to leave you alone," he cried, wrapping his arms around her in a vice. "I couldn't even face you after my trial!"

"Draco," Hermione crooned, rubbing his back affectionately. "You need to stop blaming yourself for things that happened long ago."

"What if you had _died_, Hermione? What if that bitch—"

"Draco, _please_. You're only harming yourself. You're someone who was under the worst of influences. Look at how you've redeemed yourself! You've definitely come a long way. What I told you on your first day isn't something I said for the hell of it, Draco. I'm truly proud of you."

He mumbled indistinctly into the waist of her gown before sniffling and straightened up. His gossamer hair was mussed and his eyes were watery and bright red, the tip of his nose the same pink as his cheeks. He also appeared to be avoiding looking at her.

"Draco… you need to stop thinking so little of yourself. It breaks my heart at how much you disparage yourself."

He finally looked at her and Hermione felt a little lurch in her stomach.

_Lord, even after crying he still looks good. How is that even fair? I, on the other hand, probably look like a clown that was left out in the rain for too long._

"Why?" he whispered with pewter eyes that seemed to look into her soul.

_Well, it's now or never, right? There's nothing like the present to tell the truth._

"Because I care about you, you dimwit," she sighed, offering him a tremulous smile.

His forehead creased as he seemed to consider her response.

"You… care for me?"

"I like you, Draco," Hermione blushed deeply, ignoring the urge to look away from those blazing eyes of his.

_Circe, it's like he can see right through me. Or at the very least, he's attempting to._

* * *

It's finally out there! I almost split this chapter into two but I didn't want to put you through any more misery. Anywho, thanks for reading, ya'll. :)


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: Sorry for the ridiculously late update, everybody. I'd been hemming and hawing whether to delete this fic or to go back and edit the chapters thoroughly. You see, while I consider myself an okay writer, I feel as though my stories often lack something. Most times I'd like to think it's depth. So, I stopped updating and read fics that had that in abundance. It was inspiring, to say the least. But I digress. I'm moderately happy with the writing in this fic but there's still things I've yet to smooth over (such as making Ron a little more three-dimensional) but I'd like to think I'll get there.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

"You… _like_ me?" Draco questioned and stared at her with wide, unblinking eyes.

_Maybe I'm just hearing things. Perhaps I merely imagined it. But that doesn't explain the beautiful flush spreading across her face._

She blinked prettily at him, looking at him with concern.

"Yes, I like you," she stated simply.

_Not very helpful, Granger._

"Why… how… when?" he whispered, watching her as though she were the sun itself.

"I think I realized just how troubled you were and that none of it was your fault, at least not intentionally, back at your trial. But then I ran into you at Flourish and Blott's and you were perfectly cordial with me, which admittedly caught me off guard. But then you started working with me… and pondered whether that was the man that had been hiding inside the cruel Malfoy I used to know all along back in Hogwarts. I must admit I felt a little cheated because I might've been his friend… or maybe not; young Hermione would have probably annoyed him. Merlin knows it happened with my fellow Gryffindors. But I digress. You always kept your cool, even when I felt like my head was going to implode and knew how to calm me down without getting frustrated yourself. I must admit that one of my favorite parts of going to work…" she blushed and the mere act inflamed Draco's curiosity. "My favorite part (aside from helping magical creatures, _of course_) was our banter. You've still your notoriously sharp tongue and clever mind but without all the resent and hatred that practically _oozed_ from you back in school."

Draco blushed and got the urge to look away but Hermione's eyes were so big and resplendent that he couldn't bear to do so.

"It sneaked up on me. Liking you, I mean. I never expected to grow _so_ fond of you, despite our differences back in school. Maybe Ron picked that up somewhere along the way; that would certainly explain all his _deeper_ feelings of enmity towards you," she reasoned wisely. "But then a part of me felt guilty for liking you while wearing his ring. It certainly helped me to keep my distance when you told me you were engaged."

"Were you sad?" he asked keenly.

She remained in silence for a moment until she jerked her head noncommittally.

"I think a part of me felt discontented," Hermione admitted nervously. "But you certainly threw me in for a loop when you divulged that you wouldn't mind getting married to me."

Draco snorted softly, shaking his head.

"I can't believe I told you that. It was quite the faux pas on my part."

"It definitely didn't help matters when I told you I felt the same," she whispered to him, nibbling on her lower lip.

Hope buzzed through his body and he hardly dared to breathe.

"So you meant it."

"Maybe. Or perhaps I was thinking that I'd much rather get married to anybody _but_ Ronald, at the time," she shrugged uneasily.

_Damn._

"But I'm much more inclined to think that I meant it," Hermione told him quietly. "I never fancied myself getting married to anybody. Well, that's a lie. I imagined getting married to him plenty back in school. But then he'd be an arse and those particular daydreams would dissipate. But after interacting with you for so long, there were times when I'd catch myself thinking that I wished Ron were more like you."

Draco's heart stuttered against his ribcage at her reveal and couldn't help the smirk that crept upon his mouth.

"Who _wouldn't_ wish their fiancé were more like me? I am the very model of perfection," he told her smugly, waggling his eyebrows at her.

He expected a snippy retort but received the surprise of a lifetime when she giggled. A warm, feminine sound that permeated every pore in his body.

"Especially on that _bloody_ atrocious double date! Ron looked so disheveled and badly put together and there _you_ were, looking like you were sporting the latest and greatest couture," she sighed, cringing at the memory.

"I _was_ wearing the latest and greatest," he smirked at her.

She laughed and rolled her eyes.

"I should have known."

They watched each other and despite the makeup that had ran down her face, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd beheld.

"But then, on the night of my bachelorette party, you told me that you'd broken off your engagement," she whispered suddenly. "It confused me. I didn't know whether to be relieved or guilty…"

"Why would you feel guilty?"

_Oh, Merlin… please don't tell me you know precisely what I feel for you._

"Because I felt relieved that you weren't going to get married after all," she blushed, looking down remorsefully. "I felt so terrible for feeling such a thing."

"Is it terrible that _I_ feel relieved that _you_ didn't get married?" he asked her gently.

Her toffee eyes looked up into his and Draco felt his pulse race at the very sight of them trained on him.

"No," she shook her head. "Is it terrible if _I'm _glad _I _didn't get married?"

"Never. Nobody deserves to be unhappy with somebody they once loved. That would be the worst sort of torture."

_Torture. Her scar… stop. Don't think of it lest you start bawling like a child again._

It seemed as though she could read his thoughts because her eyes softened and gave him a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine. _Really_," she insisted.

"I know," he quirked a smile at her.

"You know… before I left, Ron asked me if loved you."

Draco felt himself go cold and tense simultaneously.

"Oh?" he asked, desperately hoping he sounded casual.

"Yeah. I think part of him wondered whether that was the reason I refused to marry him."

"Hmm," Draco said as noncommittally as possible.

_Could she really love me? Is the weasel truly so sentient? Oh, I must be truly mental to even entertain the very thought. It's never been this easy... why should it be now?_

"I told him that I don't and seemed greatly relieved. He even had the gall to tell me that you didn't deserve me," she muttered darkly.

_How right he is, for once in his miserable life._

"Oh."

It wouldn't be an understatement to say that Draco had never felt so disappointed in his life.

"Still… I wouldn't be the first or last girl to fall in love with Draco Malfoy," she told him coyly, looking at him from under her lashes.

_Yes! _There is hope after all! Oh, thank Salazar. Mother was right… this may not be as one-sided as I'd originally thought.__

Draco gave her a genuine smile and gently lifted her chin so he could look at her properly. She sucked in a sharp breath of air before parting her lips at his touch. An overwhelming ache to kiss her overcame him; it felt as though a flame had abruptly sparked to life within him. The slow burn of it ignited his blood, warming his entire being.

_But it must wait. It __**has**__ to wait. What kind of bastard would I be if I kissed a woman who still wore the dress in which she was supposed to get married (to the world's biggest tosser) in? I must do right by her and Merlin knows she deserves it. She deserves the best, she deserves it all. And by Salazar I want to be the one who gives it to her._

He could even _hear _the way her respiration sped up.

_Damn it, Hermione. You're doing nothing to help keep my resolve. Oh, but **how** my entire being aches for her._

He leaned down and brushed his lips ever so lightly across her cheeks and finally her forehead. He heard her sigh contentedly (or so Draco hoped) and opened her eyes to look into his, her cheeks tinged a lovely magenta.

"You should probably get out of this dress before we go and make any hasty declarations of love for each other," he whispered jokingly.

"You're right," she laughed, nodding in agreement.

"I usually am," he smirked, rising and stretching his hand out to help her up.

She didn't hesitate and placed her hand in his as though it were the most natural thing on earth. Draco gave her hand a gentle squeeze before easily lifting her up to her feet. Maybe a little _too_ easily because she ended up stumbling into his arms.

_Will I ever get used to having her so close to me? Merlin, I hope not._

He steadied her and Hermione blushed as she straightened up. Draco noted smugly, however, that she'd kept a firm grasp of his wrists.

"I…"

_Concentrate, damn you!_

"I doubt you arrived with a suitcase in tow, so I'll lend you some clothes. Would that be alright?"

"That'd be perfect," she smiled appreciatively at him, stepping away from him.

"Great. Follow me," he nodded, walking toward his bedroom.

He rifled through his pajama drawers (yes,_ plural_) and held out a pair of black silk pajamas for her.

"They're probably a _tad_ big on you but that's nothing a simple charm can't fix," Draco winked at her, enjoying the way her cheeks turned pink.

She started to walk out of his room when he grabbed on to her arm.

"You can use my bathroom. I promise I don't have any nefarious artifacts hidden in there," he told her wryly, pointing the door out to her.

"Right. Thanks, Draco," she mumbled and floated off.

_Wait a minute… Hermione's in my bedroom. Hermione Granger is in my bedroom. She's going to change in my bathroom. The place I shower and oftentimes have had less than gentlemanly thoughts of her._

"Sweet Merlin," Draco groaned, closing his eyes. "Everything okay in there?"

"Peachy. Say, Draco, I'm not _too_ shocked to see so many hair and skincare products in here," she teased, laughing softly.

Draco felt himself blush and cleared his throat.

"Yes, well… listen, I'll be in the kitchen alright? You take your time and feel free to use anything you might need," he called out, hoping she wouldn't notice the unnerved tone in his voice.

"Okay!" she chirped.

Draco stared at the door and let his imagination run amok for a moment, trying to picture whatever she was currently doing.

"Stop," he hissed. "You may not be much of a gentleman but you're better than this… or so I'd like to think. She deserves better than this! Yes, yes… that. She deserves better than to be debased, particularly when she's in the next room."

"Did you say something, Draco?"

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin at her voice.

_I didn't think she had heard! Merlin's gonads… the woman has good hearing._

"No, nothing! I'll be going now!" he called and literally ran from the room.

He scrambled to the kitchen and poured himself two fingers worth of firewhisky, desperately trying not to picture her shedding layers upon layers of wedding dress in his bathroom.

"Stop it! You're being a cad," he grumbled to himself, tossing back the liquor.

_Maybe I ought to cook her something to eat… I very much doubt she popped into a pub for fish and chips before coming here._

He snorted at the thought but became wildly distracted when he heard his shower run. He gulped and pictured the water cascading down her body, gliding down womanly curves…

"For fuck's sake, Malfoy! You're a grown man, behave yourself as such. Stop having dirty thoughts as if you were a randy teenager. Hermione deserves better than that. Now, focus on dinner, damn you."

After his little pep talk, Draco looked through his fridge and realized how dismally stocked it was.

_Hmm… I guess that's why I usually end up having takeout. Pizza! I'll order it now so it'll be here by the time she… erm, yes._

Draco took out the Magical Menu that was often used by vigorous, employed bachelors (or single people, in general) and tapped his wand on the pizza that he usually ordered. He'd hooked up his Gringott's account to Pietro's Pizzeria (which in turn was linked to his Floo) a long time ago. All he had to do now was wait for confirmation and the pizza would follow soon after.

_Wait a minute. I've never really seen her eat, have I? And I hardly walked by the Gryffindor table to see what she ate back then… she did __**eat**__ her salad at work, hastily, might I add. Oh, Merlin… what if she doesn't eat meat?_

Draco stood up, feeling alarmed at his possible blunder.

"Well, if she doesn't, I'll simply order another one. Really, Malfoy, quit being so bloody anxious. You don't want to give your feelings for her away too soon, do you? Malfoy's never lose their cool."

_Well, we're not **supposed** to, anyway_, he thought grumpily.

To his relief, the pizza arrived moments before he heard the shower turn off and released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Not long after, he heard the door to his bathroom close and soon the one to his bedroom.

"Hmm… what is that delicious smell?" she called, bare feet softly padding down the hallway.

She came into his view and his jaw nearly went slack at the side of her.

_Is there anything sexier than Hermione wearing my pajamas? Well… possibly. Still, I imagine this is as sexy as she gets whilst clothed._

Sure enough, Hermione shrunk them down to fit her perfectly; the black silk hugged every curve of her body and Draco idly wondered if she was wearing anything underneath.

_Oh, Merlin… the silk against her velvety, bare skin…_

"I, erm, ordered a pizza for us. I hope you don't mind," Draco informed her, fidgeting beneath his cool exterior.

She grinned widely at him and stepped closer to him.

"That might be the smartest idea I've heard from you," she joked, sticking the tip of her tongue out playfully.

_Sweet Salazar! Even her tongue looks plump and tempting._

Draco watched her take her wand out from her pocket, point it at her hair and watched as it plaited itself.

"Where'd you have your wand? I didn't see you holding it when you came in."

"I had tucked it into my garter for safekeeping," she blushed, brushing her fingers against the counter.

_Oh, gods._

"Well, here's the pizza so tuck in while it's still hot," he murmured, trying his best to appear as unaffected as possible.

"Went all out, did you?" she teased, looking down at the myriad of pizza toppings.

"I wasn't sure what you liked so I chose the pizza that had them all," he muttered, feeling slightly abashed.

"Hey, don't worry about it," she told him softly, pressing her hand over his. "This so happens to be my favorite."

"Thank Merlin," he chuckled, relishing the warmth of her hand.

"So, beverages?"

"Fridge."

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and walked toward said appliance.

"Hm…"

"What is it?"

"Draco, you have an inordinate amount of alcohol in your fridge. Should I be worried?" Hermione questioned, peering over her shoulder to look at him.

"No, of course not. My days of binge drinking are over," he answered honestly.

She gave him a scrutinizing look before nodding, deciding he was being honest.

"That said, there's nothing like Muggle beer with pizza and I'm a little more than surprised to see some in your fridge," she laughed.

Draco blushed as she set the bottles on the counter.

"What can I say? I was curious and ended up liking it."

"An open mind… I like that," she smiled, tapping her wand against the tops and directing them to go to the trash bin.

"Cheers," he smiled at her, feeling genuinely happy to have her by his side.

_Despite the reason she came to me in the first place._

They polished the whole pizza off in comfortable silence and Hermione looked as though she was in her own little world once they'd finished.

"Hermione?"

_Oh, Merlin… what if she starts to cry over that tosser again? There's nothing to do but hold her and tell her that everything will be alright. If __**he**__ doesn't think I deserve her, then surely he must deserve her even less._

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, at the ready for her to burst into tears.

"Would this count as our first date?" she asked him offhandedly although a telltale blush was already warming her cheeks.

"If you want," he responded softly.

She swallowed nervously but nodded.

"Yes. Very much so."

Draco smiled slowly at her, causing her blush to deepen.

Once night descended upon them, Draco insisted that she sleep on his bed. Hermione finally consented when he agreed to transfigure his couch into a bed.

"Don't you know what my magic is capable of?" he questioned haughtily, smirking.

To which she rolled her eyes to and chucked one of his goose down pillows at him.

Draco had secretly hoped that she'd offer to share his bed (Merlin knew it was large enough) but knew it was far too early in their relationship for such a thing and didn't want to end up unsettling her. So after watching him turn his couch into a smaller version of his bed, she beamed at his impeccable transfiguration skills and allowed him to walk her to his bedroom.

He promptly tucked her in and pressed a lingering kiss on her cheek and forehead before murmuring tender words of goodnight to her. Draco watched in rapt fascination as her eyelids slowly drooped; she'd obviously been much more tired than she'd let on. He observed how her eyelashes seemed to caress her cheek and just how _innocent_ and _exquisite_ she looked. He finally forced himself to turn off the light and walked back to his living room before she opened her eyes and saw him staring at her like some kind of pervert. Still, he couldn't deny just how much he liked seeing her curled up in his bed.

He finally settled in his makeshift bed and felt a strange but pleasurable sense of pride when she'd complimented his wandwork.

_My parents didn't care about all that stuff, they only wanted me to be the best. But her… she cares. She __**cares**__ and I'm almost unsure of what to do with such attentiveness because it's never happened before. It warms my heart… it makes me love her even more._

"Goodnight, Hermione," he whispered, closing his eyes. "May you wake up with a lighter heart."

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As always, thanks for reading!


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: I keep forgetting to update. XD

* * *

Hermione slept well, for the most part.

It wasn't until sunbeams warmed her skin when she woke, shooting up in bed and staring at her surroundings alertly.

_Where am I? Why am I not in my…_

A glint of white caught her eye from the corner of the room and Hermione she turned to look at it. It was a dress, _her_ white wedding dress, as a matter of fact. Just like that, the events from yesterday flooded her memory. She clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a sob before weeping as silently as she dared.

_It wasn't a dream… it really happened._

She forced herself to take deep breaths lest she wake Draco up.

_Draco… Draco!_

She sniffled and looked down at the pyjamas covering her body; they were black and made of the finest silk (_undoubtedly_, Hermione thought) galleons could buy. It surprised her to notice that its owner's scent seemed to linger in the fabric. Hermione had caught a whiff of Draco every now and then back at the office and it never failed to stay in her nose, teasing her. Draco's cologne was clean with a leathery tone, all very masculine and appealing. Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine and inhaled deeply, appreciating the way the fresh aroma of detergent mixed with his personal scent and enveloped her like a soothing hug.

_Wait a minute… I told Draco how I felt about him, but he never said how he feels about me._

Hermione swallowed thickly and stared at the gap between his curtains, watching the sliver of sunshine peek through.

_Well, Hermione… think. Not only has he told you that he wouldn't mind marrying you but he also gave you refuge after calling your wedding off. He consoled you and even lent you clothes. Hell, he practically forced you to take his bed! He must feel something… right? He might have been a right prat at Hogwarts but he's changed for the better. Could he really feel something for me too?_

She contemplated snuggling under the covers once more but knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. So instead, she swung her legs over the edge of Draco's ridiculously tall bed and stretched, feeling all the tension she felt yesterday disappear. She glanced at the open door of his restroom and considered taking another shower.

_Don't be ridiculous. You took one last night. Besides, the sound might wake the master of the house… is he really sleeping? Maybe I could cook him breakfast as a thank you for going above and beyond for me. Moreover, what man doesn't like to be awoken by the smell of food?_

Hermione all but leaped out of bed, grabbed her wand from the nightstand and padded down the silent hallway. She heard light snoring when she peeked from the corner of the hallway and spotted Draco sleeping on his back. She looked around nervously before creeping closer to him, gripping her hand tightly with both hands.

_He looks so… peaceful. Have I ever seen him so relaxed? Probably not. It's like he __**has**__ to put up these barriers around him to keep him from showing what he truly feels. A defense mechanism, if you will. Look at him, he looks like an angel._

One of his hands rested on his stomach while his other arm was raised above his head, ever so gracefully despite his lack of consciousness. His blanket was twisted between his long legs and Hermione instantly felt awful for hogging his bed, despite the fact that he'd transfigured his couch into a bed no bigger than the ones they'd slept in back in Hogwarts. But since Draco was a grown man now, it was a bit of a cramped fit for him.

Hermione snapped her eyes to his face, transfixed by the tranquility in it. She peered closer and observed how his golden eyelashes brushed against his cheek. Her eyes roved to his pink lips and noticed that despite being thin, the bottom one looked lush… and _so_ temptingly soft.

_The better to kiss with, my dear._

Hermione blushed and observed the contours of his face and finally found herself staring at his pale throat. He'd buttoned his pajama top all the way up but the top two must have come undone in his sleep; a few chest hairs glinted temptingly, scattered along his chest.

Hermione blushed deeper.

_What are you doing? Step away before he wakes up and catches you watching him like a pervert! _

She practically ran to his kitchen, placing a handy Silencio in the room so she wouldn't wake him.

Hermione proceeded to open his fridge and observed the abysmal produce inside with a frown.

"Do we not pay him enough or what?" she muttered under her breath, standing on her tiptoes to look at the top tier.

Gathering the most essential of ingredients, she finally got to work. He'd stir every now and then, causing Hermione to shoot him wary glances but he would (thankfully) remain asleep.

She managed to find plates and utensils and set everything down quietly as she could despite the spell she cast. Even so, there was only so much she could do before Draco began to rouse, making the cutest little sounds Hermione ever did hear. She heard him inhale deeply, looking away to give him his privacy after waking up.

"Something smells delicious," he spoke huskily, sitting up and stretching his arms above him.

Hermione felt a little jolt travel down her spine at the tone of his voice and managed not to blush.

"Good morning," she smiled at him, canceling the spell she'd casted.

He gave her (what she deemed) an adorable sleepy smile in return, standing up slowly.

"G'morning. How did I not hear you?" he yawned, ambling toward the kitchen.

She raised her wand and twirled it between her fingers just as he stood across from her.

"Show off," he mumbled good-naturedly, looking down at the spread.

Sure, tufts of his platinum hair were sticking up in the back of his head but Hermione had never seen anybody wake up looking so attractive.

_Not fair._

She smiled at his comment and tucked her wand into the waistband of the pajama bottoms, motioning for him to tuck in.

"It smells incredible, Hermione."

"Ron may have criticized my cooking way back then but I'm proud to say there is not one thing I can't do when I put my mind to it," she beamed at him.

At the mention of Ron's name Hermione noticed how Draco's smile fell slightly but he didn't comment, opting to pick up his fork instead. After loading it, he raised it to his mouth and chewed thoughtfully before breaking out in a wide smile.

"These _have_ to be the most delicious scrambled eggs ever. What did you put in them?" he asked before elegantly feeding himself some more.

"Love."

He glanced up at her in mid-chew and stared.

"I'm just kidding," she chuckled. "Butter. Quite a bit of it, actually."

He smirked and swallowed, picking up his napkin and dabbing at the corners of his mouth.

"You have manners," she sighed dreamily.

He raised his brow in question and took a drink of juice.

"I'm a Malfoy. Why, I was practically born with manners," he told her imperiously, taking a dainty bite of toast.

Hermione laughed and took a bite of the scrambled eggs.

"Ron used to shovel food in his mouth and oftentimes wouldn't even bother swallowing before talking," she grimaced, remembering all the times she had to wipe her face.

Draco scowled and shook his head.

"Why am I not surprised?" he murmured, eating more of his eggs.

Hermione watched him, waiting for him to throw a barb at Ron.

"Your food's going to get stone-cold if you keep staring at me," he uttered, looking up at her from under his eyelashes.

Hermione felt her cheeks warm up but didn't respond and looked down at her plate, jamming toast into her mouth. She heard him chuckle quietly and glared at him when it made him smirk.

_Ugh, I knew the irritating Malfoy I knew back in school had to be somewhere under there._

She glanced at his plate and saw that it was empty.

"There's more, if you want. I put a warming charm so it wouldn't go cold."

"Hermione Granger: always going the distance."

While his words might've sounded less than nice, his tone sounded proud and impressed. She flushed and watched him as he raised his hand and lazily did a beckoning motion. She looked behind her and felt her eyes widen as the pan levitated and zoomed towards him.

"How did… that was… wow. I'm very impressed, Draco! I didn't… I wasn't aware your wandless magic was so good."

He gave her a smug smile and started to refill his plate, looking up at her as though asking if she wanted anymore. After shaking her head, he shrugged a shoulder and loaded his plate.

_I'd forgotten just how much men can eat. How does he stay fit? It's incredible._

"Living in solitude does that to you. With nobody else to talk to, there's not much else but reading and practicing," he answered quietly, any traces of his smile gone.

"Why were you living alone? Was it by choice?"

His eyes flickered up to hers, observing her as he chewed.

"It was, yes. Mother had offered to let me stay with her but I couldn't do that."

"How come?"

"I didn't want to remind her of fath— _Lucius_. I knew just what she was going through and seeing me wouldn't make things any easier. So I kept to myself, only going out in public with a disguise when I needed provisions."

"It couldn't have been easy. You were always surrounded by your friends at school. Or so it seemed, anyway. It's what I saw at the Great Hall," she blushed, partially feeling assuming for saying such a thing.

He gave her a ghost of a smile as he ate the last of his sausage.

"It definitely took some getting used to," he admitted. "As for the latter… things aren't always what they seem."

Hermione tilted her head curiously as he wiped at his mouth, placing his napkin atop his empty plate.

"Yes, I was unequivocally the 'most' _everything_ Slytherin."

"Most everything?" Hermione questioned.

"Most popular, most handsome, most rich, most… _experienced_," he smiled slyly at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, unable to contain the blush that spread across her cheeks.

"Anyway, I _was_ surrounded by friends and although I'd held friendship with most since childhood, mostly because our fathers," he frowned, flicking at the end of the napkin, "but it'd be appallingly easy to tell you how many of them were standing by my side sixth year. Or at the end of the war, really."

She furrowed her brow, curious.

"Nobody, Hermione. I was alone. I suppose it was better that way," he said, looking away.

"You cared for them," she whispered.

"Well, what could I do? It was either have friends or obey Voldemort's orders."

Hermione sighed, resting her chin on the back of her hand.

"Anyway…" he said, shaking himself. "Your breakfast was delicious, Hermione. Wands up to you."

"I'm sure you've had better food," she muttered, embarrassed.

"Probably," he shrugged. "But you made _this._"

Hermione felt herself glow at his praise. They stared at each other for a few seconds before he broke eye contact; she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Nothing sleep couldn't aid," she told him, hoping she sounded cheery.

He quirked a corner of his lips and gave her a mildly disbelieving look.

"That, I agree with. But it's okay if you don't. One day at a time, Hermione. You can't just say, or worse… pretend that nothing's changed," he told her gently.

"You're right. Maybe I'm expecting too much of myself," she whispered, tracing her fingertip along the rim of her glass.

"You are Hermione Granger, aren't you?" he teased.

She looked up at him and felt herself melt at the intensity of his gaze. His eyes usually looked grey, or even silver but right then they looked deeper; almost as though they were brimming with emotion.

"I'm here for you if you need me. Surely you know that."

"I know. Thank you," she told him in a tone just below a whisper.

He nodded and gave her a little smile.

"I'm just glad it's the weekend. Though surely nobody's going to resist owling me or visiting me at work," she frowned.

"So tell them to sod off."

She gave him a reprimanding look but he just grinned impishly at her.

"I wish. But they're my family and friends. I just can't push them away."

"You're far too nice, Hermione."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she chuckled.

"It is," he told her, looking slightly nauseated.

"You would think so," she told him dryly, magicking the plates and utensils to wash.

He watched her silently until something seemed to occur to him.

"Are we still… going to work together? If memory serves, Mother Weasley mentioned something about you not working in the department after your wedding…" he trailed off, a light pink blush tinting his cheeks.

"I can honestly say I hadn't thought about that," Hermione confessed, biting her lip.

"Well, do you like working for your current department?" he questioned, crossing his arms.

"It's nice. I'm comfortable and…"

Draco gave her a knowing smile.

"Then maybe you should take the position you were offered."

"Maybe…"

"Hermione, if there's any chance you're hesitating because of me you're fretting over nothing," he chided her gently. "I want you do be doing something you love and _actually _want to be doing. Don't let yourself get tied down simply because you have too much of a bleeding heart."

"I do not have a bleeding heart!" she huffed, crossing her arms tightly.

"You do too," he chuckled. "But that's not the point, is it?"

"You're right… it wouldn't be the end of the world if we're not working together, right?" she asked him in a small voice.

He blinked in surprise and reached over to take her hand in his.

"We'll still be able to see each other… I hope. I mean, if you're willing," he told her shyly. "Still, good luck finding someone who makes coffee and tea as well as I do."

She smiled gratefully at him and let out a pent up breath of air.

"You're absolutely right. Thank you, Draco. Really. If I hadn't been watching just how much you've changed, that right there would have done it."

"Just don't let anybody else know. I've got a reputation to upkeep you know," he teased, winking at her.

She mimed zipping her mouth which caused him to laugh; it sounded so warm and deep, Hermione felt as though the sound lodged itself in her skin.

"What now?"

"I should go back to my flat. I'm sure there are Weasleys and Potters waiting for me at my doorstep," she told him grimly.

"You know you _don't_ have to answer to them right away, right? You need to take care of yourself first and then perhaps answer to them afterwards," he said to her, sounding annoyed on her behalf. "Above all, you must always put yourself first... as mawkish as it may sound."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded mutely, letting Draco's words wash over her. A warmth settled in her chest and she lowered her gaze, not wanting him to see the tears in her eyes.

_Nobody, aside from my parents, has ever told me that. __Even when I was with Ron... it was all about him. Apples and oranges, Hermione._

"I know."

"Good."

He gave her hand a comforting squeeze before retracting his own, setting it down in his lap.

"Despite everything… I had a good time with you."

He gave her a slow smile that thrilled her all the way from the top of her head to her toes.

"It was my utmost pleasure," he told her huskily.

"I guess now I know who to come to next wedding I call off," Hermione joked.

Draco looked disturbed for a moment before barking out the most humorless laugh ever.

"Don't get too comfortable, Granger. You're going to have to say 'I do' someday," he smirked.

_Change the conversation before it gets awkward, Hermione. Steer away!_

"How come you're not married?"

_Way to go, like that topic's any better._

A startled expression crossed his face before he smiled wryly.

"I'd always found the arranged marriages between purebloods to be a bunch of shite," he scoffed, giving his head a shake. "I thought it was extremely antiquated but I kept my mouth shut, knowing it would ultimately make things easier for my parents and whatever poor witch they'd choose for me. But after the war, it was tough dating… let alone arranging a marriage. Who'd want me? As if the Malfoy name wasn't tainted enough…"

"There's always more than meets the eye, as you said."

Her words seemed to have caught him off guard because he simply looked at her as though not knowing what to make of her. He gave himself a little shake but gave her a peculiar little smile.

"Then, Astoria came into my life. She wasn't the one who was promised to me but rather her sister, Daphne. The termination of our brief engagement caused quite a scandal among the old pureblooded families," he snickered. "But I digress. She was everything a man could want in a woman…"

Hermione looked down, a dreadful sadness chilling her to the bone.

"But not to me. After seeing you that rainy day at Flourish &amp; Blott's, I couldn't stop thinking about you. It only got a little worse after I started working with you. Any prejudices I held against you were long gone and I couldn't help but fancy you," he admitted coyly. "It was almost as though I was getting to know a whole different person. It fascinated me. Of course, I knew you and Weasley were together but that didn't seem like reason good enough for me. Still, I knew it was delusional of me to think you could ever see me any other way other than a colleague. I enjoyed spending any time I could with you, no matter how short the minutes. Despite being an awful prick about you being a know-it-all, I've come to realize just how utterly brilliant and clever you are. No wonder you were the one with the better marks back in school despite any studying I managed to do."

Hermione blushed, fidgeting nervously.

"I just see you as you really are, blinded no longer by my immaturity and resentment. You're valiant and strong and so beautiful. I think you're the best kind of beautiful there is, not only as it is blatantly obvious with one look at you but it also reflects on your soul. You're so compassionate and warm and caring… I _see_ you, Hermione," he whispered fervently to her.

She swallowed thickly, feeling a pleasant tingle spread through her extremities.

"Only someone with the same qualities could possibly be able to see that, though," she smiled sagely at him.

She watched as his expression blanched, seeming to give her words serious thought.

"Only _you_ would think so," he smiled, shaking his head in incredulity.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, Draco. You seem to think so highly of me but don't seem to believe that you deserve the same regard. Tell me, what does it say of me if _I _think you're good?"

He remained quiet for a minute or two until the corners of his mouth curled up into a smile.

_Ah! We finally seem to be getting somewhere. He might think I have a bleeding heart, but he definitely doesn't give himself the credit he deserves. I'm not going to coddle him but merely show him who he __**really**__ is._

* * *

As always, thank you for taking the time to read. :)


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: So I'm a little iffy about the details I posted about Lucius Malfoy since there's some information we aren't given in the books so I just did a rough estimation. Anywho, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing.

* * *

Draco sat in his chair, pouring over some paperwork that had been waiting for him on his desk when he arrived. It'd been a month since the Granger-Weasley almost wedding and three weeks since Hermione had relocated to another department.

Of course, he'd received the surprise of his life when he arrived to work to see none other than Pansy Parkinson sitting in his chair, waiting for him.

(flashback)

"_What the…" Draco mumbled, stopping in his tracks._

"_Hello Draco," the ebony-haired woman told him, grinning _insouciantly_._

"_Pansy… what the blazes are you doing here?"_

"_What does it look like I'm doing here?" she chortled, standing up and sashaying up to him._

"_I'm beginning to have an idea," he mumbled under his breath, watching her warily._

"_I'm your new boss!" she chirped, clasping her hands together._

_Draco observed her and thought to himself that she'd come a long way from how she looked at Hogwarts. Sure, Pansy had always been the "best-looking" Slytherin girl in his year, but even then she'd often been subjected by the Gryffindors as having a slight pug-faced look about her. But now… Draco thought that she'd bloomed unexpectedly. She wore an emerald robe, so dark it almost looked black, and a pair of high-heeled pumps. Her dark hair was cropped short, the curled ends barely skimming her jaw. She wore makeup (although not as heavily as she did back in Hogwarts) and Draco grudgingly admitted that she looked pretty._

"_Oh, joy," he smirked._

_Pansy gave him a chastising look and leaned forward to kiss both his cheeks. _

"_I wasn't going to take the job initially. But after finding out that you'd be working for me, it pretty much made up my mind."_

_Draco cringed inwardly missing how Hermione would correct anybody who'd say that Draco worked for her, even if it was the truth. But she'd always been infallibly tactful whereas Pansy had a questionable judgment at best; he recalled the moment during the battle at Hogwarts when she screamed and pointed at Potter right after Voldemort asked for him, which led to the Slytherins being taken down to the dungeons._

_He realized that she was staring intently at him, clearly waiting for him to say something._

"_Good, good," he told her vaguely, setting down his briefcase on his desk._

"_So how are you? It's been __**ages**__. I haven't heard from you since…"_

"_Since my trial," he finished dryly._

_He turned in time to see an uncomfortable look settle on her face._

"_If memory serves, you and your family had gone into hiding, right?" he asked, crossing his arms and spearing her with a less than friendly look._

"_It wasn't anything personal," she muttered uncomfortably, shifting from foot to foot._

"_Of course," Draco told her coolly._

"_We knew you had enough on your plate as it was. We didn't think being seen with us would do you any favors."_

"_Who is this 'we' you're referring to?" he asked her curiously._

"_Blaise, Theo, Daphne, Greg… you know, the gang."_

_Draco merely quirked a brow at her._

"_Okay, __**fine**__. Our fathers had been sent to Azkaban and we felt like it would be best to keep out of the public eye," she huffed._

_Draco smiled smugly at her and she pulled a face at him in response._

"_But that didn't mean we didn't miss you or anything. On the contrary..."_

"_The past is the past, Pansy. It's useless to burden ourselves with what-if's and should-have's," Draco shrugged._

"_So you're okay with this? Me working here, I mean."_

_Draco snorted._

"_Like I have a choice? You're already here, aren't you?"_

_She laughed and nodded._

"_Haven't changed much, have you?"_

_Draco could only remain silent._

"_Well, it's good to see you again," she told him softly. "I'll be in my office, should you need anything."_

_Draco nodded and began to move toward his desk._

"_Did you really work for Granger?"_

_He felt his heart stutter upon hearing her name and forced himself to look neutral._

"_Yes, I did," he told her simply._

_A pensive look crossed Pansy's face as she leaned against the doorway._

"_Is she still a grating know-it-all?"_

_Draco felt something like indignation boil in his veins over Pansy's words, which was simply ridiculous because __**he**__ used to think of her that way not too long ago._

"_No, not really," he told her, feeling his lips twitch. "She's still very brilliant, though and not as in-your-face as she used to be."_

_Pansy nodded and watched Draco carefully._

"_Did you spend a lot of time with her?"_

"_A regular workday," he shrugged, starting to feel suspicious. "Look, are we going to continue playing twenty questions? There's work to be done."_

_She shook herself and nodded, looking contrite._

"_Right. Well… you know where to find me," she smiled at him._

_He nodded curtly at her and attended to his owls, relief and resent flooding him s_imultaneously_. Relief because she'd been asking too many questions and resentment because the fact that she was here simply meant that Hermione wasn't._

(end flashback)

"I'm going out for lunch, Draco! Do you want anything?" his boss questioned suggestively.

He forced an impassive look on his face and shook his head.

"I have stuff to do."

She shrugged, slipping her arms into her robe.

"Your loss. See you later."

He nodded mutely and breathed a sigh of relief when she left.

_Merlin, what is it with Parkinson? Not only does she slip not-so-subtle innuendo into our conversations but both the hemline and neckline of her dresses have become skimpier. I mean, it's evident she fancies me but does she have to make it __**so**__ bloody obvious? I'd hate it if people began to say that the only reason I'm keeping my job is because I'm shagging the boss. It might get back to Hermione and while she might know better than to believe mindless gossip, it might complicate things between us._

He heaved a sigh and leaned back on his chair, massaging his temples.

Draco and Hermione had been seeing each other ever since she left his apartment, but everything had been low-key and casual between them thus far. Still, Draco had to work hard to behave as though he merely liked her all the while his insides smoldered with love for the witch. It helped that they didn't really touch with the exception when he'd drop off Hermione at her doorstep; she always stood on her tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on his cheek. A simple kiss that would turn his blood to simmer in his veins.

_I need to ask her out on a proper date, I'd hate to lose her because I didn't have the bollocks to do it._

But more than that, he worried about her. He knew that she'd faced the Weasleys admirably but also knew that she felt guilty about walking out, especially since the Weasley matriarch had planned the wedding along with Fleur Weasley née Delacour. Draco had wondered just _how_ much the Weasel had told his family and whether he'd put Hermione in a good light. Hermione hastened to tell him that Mrs. Weasley had yelled herself hoarse at Weasley once they gave up waiting for Hermione outside her flat and that nobody blamed her for leaving his sorry arse.

_There are times when she looks as though her mind is in another place or when she looks like she's close to tears. Why won't she confide in me, though? Does she think I'll reproach her? She must… why else keep to herself? Maybe she's not comfortable talking to me… but why not reach out to someone else? Potter, for example. I am loathe to admit, but there's no doubt in my mind she'd feel better letting someone in. Even if it's not me… damn it, Malfoy, everything does __**not**__ have to be about you._

"I just want her to realize that I support her, no matter what she does or who she decides to talk to," he breathed out, running his fingers through his hair. "And it's not as though I can easily owl Potter to ask him to go to her. He'd be suspicious and would indisputably ask how I know so much about what she's going through, which would immediately raise more questions than solutions."

A knock on the door brought him out of his reverie.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, Olivia?"

"Your lunch is here."

"Thanks," he smirked at her.

A fiery blush crept up on her face and gave him a gormless smile before nodding and backing out of his office. He chuckled and shook his head, pleased that he still had the Malfoy charm.

_If only Hermione were susceptible to it._

His lunch appeared on his desk and he inhaled appreciatively, breathing in the enticing scent of the meat.

_But isn't she, though? She always turns pink when you catch her staring and when you look her in the eyes for a second too long. She's adorable when flustered._

Draco took the silver cover off his plate and grinned at the sight of his steak, the sautéed mushrooms that sat on top and the perfectly golden brown chips. His mouth practically watered as he cut into it, watching as the juices seeped out. A moment later a bottle of steak sauce appeared on his desk and he grinned, pouring it generously over his steak. He speared a piece of steak and popped it into his mouth, masticating it thoroughly as to savor it properly.

_Ugh, I recall the manner in which Weasel used to eat back at Hogwarts. How did Hermione put up with such primitive manners? More so, how was she __**able**__ to kiss that mouth? Revolting. Sometimes, there's no accounting for taste. I'll give her the benefit of the doubt. She was young, after all. But now…_

Draco smirked, eyeing the Daily Prophet that rested near the edge of his desk. He usually made it a priority to read it every morning but he'd been swamped with sending owls and looking over drafts that he didn't have a chance to. He began to get into the habit of reading the paper, wanting to keep up with the wizarding news of the world since he didn't really venture out into said world anymore.

_I wonder what newspaper reported Weasley and Hermione's breakup. It wasn't on the Prophet. I should know, I kept my eyes peeled. Perhaps it was on Witch Weekly, it seems like the sort of rot that would belong on there. Or maybe even The Quibbler, seeing as Lovegood is a friend of Hermione and Weasley. Oh, what I __**wouldn't **__have given to be there when Weasley announced that the wedding would no longer be taking place. It sounds terrible of me but he's not precisely known for his eloquence or verbosity. What Hermione saw in him in the first place, I'll never know; it mystifies me. I wonder if she ever fancied Potter… no, she wouldn't go from liking one boy and then jumping to his best friend. They always did seem to have a very sibling-like relationship, considering the fact that they don't have any of their own. Well, I know Potter doesn't. But her… could she have siblings? Merlin, this makes me realize just how little I know of her, how disconcerting. Nothing a date couldn't fix… perhaps I could owl her. But how cowardly is_—__

Draco straightened up, eyes flying open as inspiration struck.

_I could send an anonymous owl to Potter!_

Vanishing the empty plate and cover with an enthused flick of his wand, he scoured his hands before gathering a piece of parchment and quill and dipped it into his inkwell.

_Mr. Potter,_

_ It has come to my attention that _

"That _what_? She doesn't seem like her usual self? That although she appears to be fine, in actuality, Hermione's depressed? Oh, bugger," he sighed, chewing on his lip.

Draco snatched the piece of parchment and crumpled it and cast a simple Incendio before vanishing the ashes for good measure. He knew if anybody were to find that scrap of paper in his bin, they would know that it was he who sent the owl to Potter and Draco most certainly couldn't afford to be discovered, no matter how good his intentions.

He tapped the end of his quill on his desk, thinking hurriedly.

_Better come up with something before the boss comes back._

_Mr. Potter,_

_ As the whole Wizarding world knows, you are one of Ms. Granger's closest friends. Likewise of the wedding from the aforementioned person that didn't take place. Although Ms. Granger looks as composed as ever, I'm afraid it might be nothing more than a façade. We're colleagues, you see, and although she displays a calm disposition over it all there are moments when she lowers her guard and it's easy to see that she's not as okay as she would like everybody to believe. Perhaps Ms. Granger isn't ready to open up or maybe she simply doesn't feel like she has anybody that she could confide in. However, I am sure that should you offer her your ear or shoulder, she wouldn't hesitate to open up. In the time that I have worked alongside Ms. Granger, I have come to care for her and it troubles me to see her like this. I would gladly offer myself but we're nowhere close to being as friendly as the two of you are so there's no doubt she would find my proposition peculiar. Ms. Granger is a most beloved person at work and it troubles us to see her so down._

_Cheers._

Draco read it several times before folding it careful with magic and slipping it into an envelope. He stood and poked his head from the doorway, watching Olivia for a couple of seconds.

"Liv," he purred.

She jumped in her seat before turning to face him, a bright blush taking over her face.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" she simpered.

"Be a dear and send this to the owlery for me. It's of the utmost importance that it's owled today," he told her, holding out the envelope.

To her credit, she didn't glance at the recipient and nodded, eyes as wide as galleons.

"Right away Mr. Malfoy, sir!"

"Thank you, Olivia," he winked at her, disappearing into his office once more.

He heard her sigh dreamily and Draco couldn't help but smirk.

_Oh, yeah. I still have it._

He sauntered over to his desk, fingers brushing against The Prophet when he heard someone's heels tap rapidly against the floor.

_Curious. Why would somebody be running? Probably a missed deadline._

"Draco!"

He stiffened, brow creased.

_I must be going barmy if I'm hearing Hermione's voice. She's nowhere near this level._

"Draco!"

He pulled his hand back and turned around and watched as Hermione ran into his office. His frown disappeared and a grin soon took its place.

"Draco! There you are, I've been looking _all _over for you," she panted, fanning her face.

"I've been here all along."

She looked thoughtful for a few seconds before scowling.

"Parkinson lied to me," she said through gritted teeth. "She said you'd gone out to lunch to the Leaky Cauldron and so I went to look for you there. But when I didn't see you there, I—"

She stopped and shook her head as though embarrassed.

"You did what?" Draco asked, smiling curiously.

She pressed her lips together and gave him a look before looking away.

"I went into every dining establishment in Diagon Alley to see if you were there," she spoke rapidly.

Draco felt speechless as her face turned a beautiful magenta.

"Why? What was so important that you ran all over in heels looking for me?" he smirked.

She gave him a perturbed look before taking a deep breath to steady herself.

"Draco, I'm back!"

"Oh, no," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I had _such_ a lovely lunch and I— what's _she_ doing here?" Pansy demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

"I came looking for Draco, as you already know," Hermione told her coolly.

Pansy's eyebrows shot up and glanced at Draco before turning back to Hermione.

"Since when do you call him 'Draco'?" she glared.

"That really is none of your business. Now, if you could please—"

"Are you telling me to leave?" Pansy gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.

"I was getting to that before you interrupted," Hermione told her briskly.

"Who do you think you are?" Pansy hissed, stepping closer to her. "He may have been your assistant before, but now he works for me! You _may_ have been Gryffindor's _Golden Girl_ but here—"

"Pansy, that's enough," Draco snapped, stepping protectively before Hermione. "Stop now before you make a bigger fool of yourself."

Pansy's mouth fell open as she stared disbelievingly at him.

"How can you take her side?" she whispered roughly. "You of all people should understand! Don't you remember all the names you called her?"

He winced and jerked his head.

"That was then, this is now. Would you please leave? If I'm not mistaken, I still have five minutes left of lunch and I'd like to spend them with her."

Draco didn't think it possible, but Pansy's mouth gaped even more. She finally shook herself and walked away to her office but not before giving Hermione her fiercest glare. Pansy sniffed with indignation and shut the door with so much force that the doorknob rattled.

"Well, that was unnecessary," Hermione tittered, eyeing the door.

Draco turned to her and gave her a look of utmost confusion.

"I'm sorry but was that amusing to you?" he quirked a brow.

"It is when she's the one with smoke coming out of her ears," she giggled again. "Besides, I've got thick skin, nothing she can say could possibly hurt me."

"You sound a little smug there," Draco teased, looking into her bright brown eyes.

"It probably rubbed off from you," she smirked.

"You minx," he murmured admiringly, stepping closer to her.

"Wait, Draco! Stop."

He swallowed thickly and took a step back, feeling a bit hurt.

"That's not what I came for," she mumbled, ducking her head.

"Why are you here, then?"

"I'm so sorry," she breathed out, eyes growing misty.

"It's… erm, okay?"

"No, no… don't you know?" she asked, tiny crease forming between her brows.

"Know what?" he asked, perplexed.

"Haven't you read…?"

"Read _what?_"

She leaned across from him and stared at the unopened Prophet on his desk.

"Oh, Draco."

"What? What is it? What happened?" he asked, alarmed.

She licked her lips as tears pooled into her eyes.

"Did something bad happen?" he whispered, gripping her arms tightly.

Her lips quivered as she stared into his eyes, feeling his terror grow.

_Oh, no… is another dark lord trying to take over? Is someone wreaking havoc? Killing innocents, perhaps?_

"Hermione?"

"You should read it," she told him softly.

He immediately let her go and strode toward his desk and snatched the newspaper. He opened it impatiently and turned to her.

"What page?"

"Obituaries," she breathed out.

Ice gripped his heart at her reply. He stared at her for half a second and quickly leafed to the section. He opened it widely, heart pounding madly as his eyes scanned the newspaper. He wasn't even sure who he was looking for but his eyes soon found the section that Hermione had clearly been referring to.

"Lucius Malfoy, age 48, passed away in the early Friday morning. It was reported that he died in sleep as his body didn't show any signs of foul play. Malfoy is outlived by his wife, Narcissa Malfoy née Black and heir Draco Malfoy. Malfoy was in the process of serving his sentence for being a Death Eater in Voldemort's inner circle…" he murmured numbly.

"Draco? Are you okay?" Hermione whispered, stepping toward him gingerly.

A frigid numbness spread through his body and lost his grip of the newspaper, eyes watching as it floated to the floor although his mind was racing.

_He's gone._

Draco felt warm fingers touch his cheek hesitantly. He focused his gaze on Hermione, whose eyes burned with pain and worry.

"He's gone. The miserable bastard's finally dead. He's…"

And for the first time in many years, Draco Malfoy began to cry.

* * *

I hope everybody had a great Thanksgiving! As always, thanks for reading. :)


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thanks for the continued support, everybody. :)

Disclaimer: I have yet to own anything.

* * *

"She doesn't hate me, right?" Hermione whispered up to Draco.

"Would you stop? You're making _me_ feel anxious," he sighed, attempting to inject a soothing tone into his voice. "But no, she's doesn't hate you… so cease your baseless fretting, woman."

"Okay, okay," she murmured, pulse quickening at the sound of high heels walking their way.

Hermione reminded herself to breathe just as the door swung open.

"So good to see you two, do come in," Mrs. Malfoy smiled pleasantly at them, stepping aside to let them in.

_Well, at least she didn't ignore my presence._

Hermione felt Draco's warm hand engulf hers and give it a brief squeeze before leading both of them inside.

Mrs. Malfoy closed the door behind them and lead them to the coziest parlor Hermione had ever set eyes on; it was both feminine and elegant, the very qualities that its owner possessed.

Draco sat down on the chair closest to the one Mrs. Malfoy sat down in and gently tugged at her hand, throwing her a quick look before turning to his mother. Hermione felt herself blush and sat down hastily, clutching his hand as though it were a lifeline.

"It's so good to see you again my son. Dour circumstances aside," she added as an afterthought. "I'm glad you brought Ms. Granger with you."

Hermione cleared her throat and offered Mrs. Malfoy a tentative smile.

"Please, do call me Hermione."

Mrs. Malfoy nodded majestically and gave her a reassuring smile of her own.

"When did you find out?" Draco asked quietly, staring intently at his mother.

_Looks like Draco isn't in the mood for pleasantries. Not that I can blame him, of course._

"Not long after. First I received an owl from Azkaban and soon after and owl from Kingsley Shacklebolt offering me his condolences."

"Did you cry? Are you sad?" he queried, voice softer still.

Mrs. Malfoy gave Draco a serene smile although sadness seemed to dull her deep blue eyes.

"It would have been an impossible feat not to do either, my dear. He was, after all, my husband for 23 years. Not to mention those years we knew each other in school."

"He doesn't deserve your grief, Mother," he told her bitterly, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Draco," she chastised. "He may not have been a very good man, but he was always a very good husband."

"You were probably the only person he ever loved. Aside from himself, that is," Draco snorted, rolling his eyes.

Mrs. Malfoy assessed Draco quietly, tilting her head slightly as her bright eyes watched him.

"Are _you_ sad, Draco? Did _you_ cry? He was your father, after all."

He scoffed and gave his head a brief shake as Hermione pushed away the memory of watching him crumble before her. It'd definitely been terribly distressing to witness Draco's normally cool facade evaporate. He'd fallen to his knees, gripping his hair tightly with his eyes shut tightly as though to keep himself from crying. His emotions seemed to win out because he let out a sob, tears streaming down his pallid cheeks. His face was etched with such heart-wrenching pain that Hermione had felt utterly useless standing right there next to him. Still, she'd had enough sense to lock the doors and cast a silencing charm on the office as to allot Draco some sort of privacy to grieve.

Once he'd stopped sobbing, the shudders and tears came to a stop and his office had been much too quiet, with Draco regaining his nonchalant expression. He'd avoided eye contact with Hermione until she reached out and took his hand in hers. He'd frozen and Hermione simply gave his hand a squeeze, knowing there were no words that could soothe Draco, no matter the contempt he'd held for his father in the past few years. He'd simply swallowed thickly and peered at Hermione in an almost shy demeanor before nodding, squeezing her hand in return and moving on with his day as though he hadn't received news of his father's death.

She looked away from Mrs. Malfoy, just in case his mother decided to try to read _her_ expression. She used to be awful at schooling her visage when she was in school but upon spending so much time with Draco, Hermione had learned how to look unaffected by mimicking him; she knew he'd take the mickey if he were ever to find out, but she makes of it a nightly practice to stand before her mirror in the bathroom, effecting the looks she'd preserved to her memory. Even so, Draco seemed more open to her than ever compared to before when there were times when he'd resort to putting on his mask of indifference. His eyes, however, were a completely different story. She could gauge what he was feeling just by looking into them and wondered whether he knew they held the power in giving his true emotions away.

"He may have been my father in a monetary sense but aside from that was a complete failure at _being_ my father. Not only did he poison my mind with bigotry, he also let me be the Bella's chew toy back at the Manor."

A stricken expression appeared on Mrs. Malfoy's beautiful face.

"I'm afraid he wasn't the only one who neglected you, though."

The sneer on Draco's face dissolved into a look of surprise which shifted to a grim smile.

"But at least _you_ changed before it was too late," he protested, squeezing Hermione's hand unthinkingly.

_Ouch! He's really much stronger than he gives himself credit for._

Hermione felt awkward, sitting there quietly and listening to mother and son quibble.

_Did he really need to bring me? Not that I mind, of course. But it just seems like something that ought to be discussed in private._

"I didn't want to lose you, son," she told him simply.

"He _obviously_ didn't share the sentiment," Draco said stiffly, straightening his posture.

"Of course he cared, Draco. You were his son and only heir. I don't think you know this, but a few months after you were born I wanted to try to have a another child. His reply was more than enough for me."

"What did he reply?" he asked her hesitantly, his grip increasing on Hermione's hand.

"He said this: _Why have a another when we already have everything we want? This little Malfoy will have the brightest future yet_."

Hermione felt shocked at the revelation and glanced at Draco from the corner of her eye. Needless to say, his mouth had gone slack and stared at his mother as though she'd grown an extra head.

"I don't believe it," he finally murmured, having regained control of his emotions.

"Believe it, my son. Lucius was a surprisingly devoted father when you were a newborn. Oh, how he'd fuss over you! He had the nerve to tell me _I _wasn't doing things correctly... I think I'd know more about changing nappies —don't look so surprised, Draco, of course I did it myself— than he ever would," she grumbled although she wore a wistful smile on her face. "Things changed after… well, after Voldemort returned. His mind became _so_ warped and things... well, they weren't the same again. He became withdrawn and sullen. Bitter, even."

"I can't picture him as a doting father," he laughed cynically.

"You don't understand your father, Draco. You may have tolerated him but you never _really _took the time to get to know him. He was born in an era where the things he learned would be deemed as archaic nowadays. As a matter of fact, what he taught _you_ wasn't very modern but it was what _he_ knew."

"I know, I know…" he mumbled, rolling his eyes yet again. "Purebloods are the best, down with the Muggleborns _blah blah blah_."

Mrs. Malfoy smirked at her son and Hermione found the resemblance to the smirk she was used to uncanny.

_So that's who he gets it from._

Mrs. Malfoy composed herself and pointed her wand at the porcelain teapot sitting in the middle of the table.

"Tea?"

"Yes, please," Draco and Hermione answered simultaneously.

They gave each other a little smile before turning back to Mrs. Malfoy. She handed them each a teacup and gestured to help themselves with the cream and sugar. Hermione reached for the cream and was about to ask Draco how he liked his when she saw him staring pensively into the liquid that filled his teacup.

"I may not have known him very well, but I certainly idolized him. Everything he was, everything he did… I wanted to be it too. I wanted him to be proud of me and all he did was instill a maddening, crippling hatred into my heart and mind. The only way I felt like I could make him proud was to be the malicious, elitist _brat_ he taught me to be," he chuckled humorlessly.

Hermione felt her heart grip with sadness as she watched Draco observe his reflection impassively.

"Only proud of me when I put down Saint Potter and the Weasel, when I spewed vitriol at Hermione. I may not have lived in the library like her but I always got perfect scores. But it was never good enough for Lucius," he whispered hoarsely. "It was either being at the top or I'd be nothing. Since I was nothing in his eyes, I singlehandedly brought shame to the Malfoy name."

Hermione bit her lip, reaching her hand and resting it gently atop Draco's thigh.

"Purebloods aren't taught to love, Draco," she sighed sorrowfully. "We're taught how to be proud."

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes once again. His mother merely watched him with a stern expression on her face.

"You _do_ know he loved you, Draco? In his own way, of course. He was never an overly sentimental man, your father… but don't you ever think that he didn't love you."

"A shallow love, no doubt," he mumbled, taking a drink of his tea.

Hermione trained her eyes on Mrs. Malfoy's face. Her lips were pursed tightly while her eyes watched Draco with something akin to remorse. The deep blue color of her eyes reminded her of the flecks reflected in her own son's mercurial grey eyes; Hermione recalled noticing them despite being in a teary daze the day of the almost wedding.

She felt herself blush and looked away when Mrs. Malfoy turned to her, a kind and curious smile curling at the corners of her lips.

"I certainly can't force you to believe me, Draco," she told him curtly. "But I do hope that you understand that he taught you to be those things because it was the only way he felt that he could be close to you."

Draco didn't reply nor did he roll his eyes, he simply watched his mother.

_It's sick and twisted, but it makes sense._

Both heads of blonde hair suddenly turned to look at her and Hermione realized that she'd spoken out loud.

"Erm, I'm sorry. It's not my place to judge," she apologized with a murmur, blushing beet red.

"It's quite alright, dear. I've heard much worse," Mrs. Malfoy chuckled wearily.

Shame coursed through Hermione's veins and forced herself to look down at her lap.

_There were many times when Harry and Ron called him a 'foul, evil git' and many more colorful expressions… and how many of those times did I stop them? None. My silence only encouraged them further._

"There are times when we truly believe that the end will justify the means," she spoke quietly, still staring at her lap.

Once again, she could feel both mother and son stare at her and Hermione heaved a sigh, trying to pluck her Gryffindor courage to speak of what she'd never spoken of before.

_My dirty little secret._

"For example, right before I left with Harry and Ron to hunt for horcruxes, I Obliviated my parents. I changed their identity so they could believe they were an entirely different childless couple who wanted nothing more to pursue their lifelong dream of moving to Australia."

She heard Draco take a sharp intake of air while Mrs. Malfoy gasped.

"Did you… have you gone back for them?" he asked her quietly, hesitantly as though dreading her answer.

"No," she shook her head, vision gone blurry.

"But why—"

_Now's not the time, don't break down... there'll be plenty of time later to explain to him._

"So while I can certainly understand why Mr. Malfoy did what he did, it doesn't excuse it just because he thought it was the right thing to do. The very same could be said for me. Even so, if I had to do it again I wouldn't change a thing," she shuddered, blinking madly to stop the tears from falling.

_He's already seen me fall apart at the seams once and goodness knows what he thought of that. I won't cry again. I won't cry again. I won't…_

"You're too brilliant for your own good," Draco whispered, gently taking the teacup from her hands and grasping hers in his own.

"I wasn't called the 'brightest witch of her age' for nothing, you know," she said, lifting a corner of her lips and looking up at him.

He was watching her with the utmost respect and tenderness that it almost made Hermione tear up again.

"A title well-deserved," Mrs. Malfoy smiled gently, nodding elegantly.

She looked towards the Malfoy matriarch and stared at her, watching the sympathy in her eyes and the concern splayed out in her lovely face. Mrs. Malfoy then gave her the brightest, most affectionate smile she'd ever seen on the woman's face and Hermione found herself returning it.

She felt Draco squeeze her hand and Hermione reveled at the touch. They didn't touch very often but every time they _did,_ she could practically feel her heart threaten to jump out through her throat. His touch was always warm and comforting, something she'd never expected in a billion years from _Draco Malfoy; _she remembered thinking that touching him would probably be like grabbing something slimy and cold. She looked down at his hands cradling her own and observed how his pale, slim fingers managed to look so graceful.

_I bet he'd be a wonderful pianist._

"Are you alright?" he whispered, squeezing her hands again.

She looked up into his face and saw him watching her in an earnestly concerned manner. His eyes shimmered, looking darker and stormier than their usual silver.

"Yes, yes… I'm fine. I'm sorry," she murmured, feeling her cheeks redden.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about," he whispered fervently to her, leaning closer.

His warm breath caressed her cheek and Hermione felt her cheeks burn brighter. Draco's eyes smoldered, never once looking away from hers.

_He's so… striking. Enigmatic. If only people took the time to know the real Draco Malfoy…_

Hermione felt herself get lost in his eyes, mesmerized by the deep blue flecks in them; a part of her began to feel breathless, like they in their own personal bubble...

"Ahem."

They both looked away from each other immediately, as though released from a trance. She peeked at him from the corner of her eye and noticed the slight pink tinge coloring his cheeks. She smiled and looked at Mrs. Malfoy, who was smirking at them.

"So for how long have you two been…" she trailed off, unsure yet curious of just what was going on between her son and Hermione.

"Since my wedding," Hermione blurted and then cringed, realizing just how awful it sounded said aloud.

"Oh?" a sly sparkle shone in Mrs. Malfoy's eyes.

"Er… I mean… it's not what it sounds like," she chuckled nervously, glancing at Draco from the corner of her eye.

Mrs. Malfoy merely took a dainty sip of tea, watching Hermione with great interest.

"I may not live in Britain anymore but that doesn't mean that I wasn't aware the wedding of Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger had been called off. I may not receive the Prophet anymore (and haven't for years) but that doesn't mean that your split didn't go public. In fact, there was a lot of speculation about it and it certainly didn't help that neither of you spoke about it to the press."

"Mother," Draco chastised, glaring at her.

"What? I'm simply curious," she smiled innocently at her son.

He simply glowered at her but squeezed Hermione's hands protectively.

"I called it off when he snuck in to see me and proceeded to tell me that although he loved me he proposed because he felt jealous of Draco. Your son had been working with me for about half a year and Ron didn't like how close we had become. But it would have been impossible not to, especially with the hours we had," Hermione sighed.

Mrs. Malfoy looked appalled, her pale face looking whiter than usual.

"That's low," she murmured, shaking her head indignantly.

"The worst of it was probably the fact that he himself admitted that had we… _he_ waited a while longer, everything might have turned out fine," Hermione spoke harshly, surprised at the bitterness of her voice.

Mrs. Malfoy gasped, eyes widening to the size of galleons.

"That's despicable."

"I thought so too," Hermione smiled wryly.

"So are you and my son dating now?"

"Mother!"

"No. Er, not officially yet. We haven't been _out_ on a date," Hermione blushed.

"_Draco_, I thought I'd taught you better than that," Mrs. Malfoy scolded her son.

"I… she… didn't want to overwhelm her, is all," he murmured petulantly, releasing Hermione's hands and crossing his arms over his chest.

"There's no time like the present," she chirped enthusiastically, lightly clapping her hands together.

Draco glared daggers at his mother and Hermione stifled a giggle.

"Thank you for coming by, son. It really means a lot to me," she told him softly.

Hermione watched as Draco's expression softened before it became impassive.

"You're my mother, it would have been wrong of me not to. Especially at a time like this," he murmured, sighing heavily.

"I appreciate it nevertheless, Draco."

"You're right… he may have been an unfeeling, selfish swine but he was still my father," he admitted grudgingly. "You may have carried me for nine months but I came from his—"

"That's quite enough," Mrs. Malfoy told him sharply, unable to keep a horrified look from forming on her face.

Draco smirked and stared at his mother, his love for her as obvious as the sun.

"I love you, Mother."

"I love you too, Draco," she smiled beatifically. "You treat Hermione well, you hear?"

Hermione felt her face redden and looked down, feeling shy.

"There's no other way," he told his mother softly, reaching out to grab Hermione's hand.

"Good."

"We'll be off now."

Mrs. Malfoy and Draco rose at the same time and Hermione hastily climbed to her feet.

"Don't wait too long for your next visit. I do get lonely sometimes, you know."

"_Sure_, Mother. I'm sure there's no boutique that can satiate your loneliness," he drawled.

"Draco!" Hermione hissed, tugging on his hand.

He turned to her, a smirk in place while Mrs. Malfoy merely looked amused.

"It's all right, dear. Maybe Lucius and I shouldn't have spoiled him so much as a child and should have reinforced punishment when he behaved like a brat," she sniffed delicately.

Draco rolled his eyes but couldn't seem to stop the grin that bloomed on his face. Mrs. Malfoy, in turn, looked thoroughly amused.

"It was so nice to meet you, my dearest. I do hope you'll come with him next time, there's only so much cheek a mother can take."

Draco snorted as they all walked to the door.

"It would be a pleasure, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione answered honestly.

She waved her hand airily and said, "Please, call me Narcissa."

Hermione beamed at Draco's mother and nodded.

"Apparate safely, you two."

"We shall," Draco told her, leaning to kiss his mother's cheeks.

He stepped aside to let Hermione do the same but was caught off-guard when Narcissa threw her arms around her, enveloping her in a hug. Hermione blushed with pleasure and hugged her back; they parted and gave each other shy smiles.

Hermione felt Draco grab her hand once more and gently pull her from the doorway as Narcissa watched them walk to the designated Apparition spot. With a wave of the wand and a _pop_, they were soon gone.

Back at her flat, Hermione and Draco lingered at her doorway.

"Thank you for asking me to go with you, Draco," she told him softly.

He quirked a smile at her and shook his head to indicate it was nothing.

_Oh, Godric… how am I going to do this? What if he turns me down? No, don't be silly, Hermione. He likes you and wouldn't turn you down… but how much longer would I have to wait for him to make a move if I don't? Besides, we're in the 21st century and women have just as much right to ask men out as men do._

"Well… goodnight, Hermione," he breathed, looking into her eyes.

She felt tiny shivers dance all the way from her spine to her toes and nodded dumbly.

"You too. Sleep well," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his cheek.

_His cheek is impossibly soft and as smooth as marble… I wonder if every other part of him feels the same._

She pulled away and watched in fascination how his eyes shifted into a smoldering charcoal, pupils threatening to swallow his iris. He sighed ever so softly and stared at her for a second longer before turning away.

_Now or never, Granger! Are you a bloody Gryffindor or not?_

"Draco, wait!" she called out.

He stopped in his tracks and turned on his heel, curious.

She sucked in a quick breath and felt her face flame up.

"Do you… would you like to go out on a date with me?" she asked, forcing herself to enunciate her words.

His face was blank for a moment but soon looked startled as he must have felt.

"Yes."

She grinned at him and clapped her hands lightly.

"Great. I'll owl you tomorrow, then. Night!"

She unlocked her door and stepped through it, practically melting on the floor.

_He said yes! He said yes! Wait, maybe I shouldn't have closed the door on his face…_

Hermione bit her lip with worry.

_No, I'm sure he needed to recover. He looked absolutely gobsmacked!_

She practically ran to her room and giggled like a schoolgirl.

"I have a date with Draco Malfoy!" she sang giddily, collapsing on her bed and hugging one of her pillows to her chest.

* * *

As always, thank you for taking the time to read.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

* * *

Draco eyed his reflection carefully, smoothing out his robes fastidiously.

_Be calm, Draco. Keep cool. After all, you __**are**__ a Malfoy and we're always composed._

He glanced at the clock on his nightstand and felt his nerves prickle his skin.

_Everything's going to be alright. She asked you out, for crying out loud! She _would_ most definitely not stand you up. Now, time to get a move on before you're late and that's another thing a Malfoy would never do._

He gave himself one last apprehensive look in the mirror before grabbing his wand and tucking his wallet into his robes.

Apparating to Diagon Alley, he walked briskly to the establishment Hermione had chosen for them. According to her, it was a new Italian place that had been given great reviews. Curious, he'd asked about it around the office and had been told that there's a waitlist spanning months… _months_!

_She must have pulled some strings with her War Heroine status. You won't hear __**me**__ complain, but I wish I been the one to arrange all this. After all, what good is it being a man if I can't provide for her? Then again, she might not appreciate that sentiment very much. Best keep that particular thought to myself, then._

He finally arrived found the restaurant and briefly glanced at the name before slipping inside. It was indeed bustling, waiters and waitresses flitting in and out while bottles of wine floated in the air. He stepped up to the hostess, who gave him what she clearly thought was an alluring smile.

"How may I help you today, sir?" she flirted.

"Reservation for two," he told her shortly.

_Sure, she's pretty but she has nothing on Hermione._

She deflated a bit at his brisk response.

"Under what name?"

"Granger."

She gave him a curious look before nodding, glancing at the book that had a quill hovering over it.

"Your party is already here, sir. _Bobby!_ Would be so kind to take this gentleman to the table of Hermione Granger? Thanks."

The waiter nodded enthusiastically and bowed, bending over at the waist.

"Yes, right away. Please follow me sir," he practically panted.

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. While all of this would have been flattering once upon a time, it only served to annoy him now.

_Merlin, I really was an arrogant, self-important prat. _

The waiter led him through a maze of tables and Draco had to duck a couple of times as to not be hit on the head by a stray bottle of wine. Mercifully, they finally arrived at their destination.

"Here you go, sir. If you need anything, do call me," the waiter grinned before bowing and scrambling away.

Draco watched after him in amusement but suddenly remembered Hermione's presence. He turned and saw her standing next to him, which startled him slightly and in turn, made her grin.

"Good evening, Draco," she told him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her soft, warm lips against his skin. The scent of her lingered momentarily, making Draco feel slightly punch drunk. He smiled and was about to pull her chair out of her when she pulled it out herself and sat down quickly, causing Draco to frown for a second before taking a seat himself.

_Merlin... although I shouldn't be too surprised. She did go out with the likes of Weasley... and is friends with Potter. Although he's married, so surely his manners can't be **too** lacking._

"Good evening, Hermione," he told her pleasantly, trying not to show how nervous he truly felt. "You look beautiful. Those robes do wonders for your coloring."

She flushed with pleasure and beamed at him.

"You look very dapper yourself," she nodded, eyeing his robes.

He straightened up immediately, feeling mildly self-conscious for a moment.

"Thank you," he smiled, glancing down at the menu. "So what's good here?"

_There you go, Malfoy! Let her talk while you make yourself at ease around her._

He half-listened as she started to tell him what had recommended to her and focused on the woman herself. Her hair was smoothed into a neat twist at the nape of her neck, wisps brushing against the neckline of her robes. The aubergine color was truly flattering on her skin tone and made her eyes look like molten dark chocolate. He could see the spray of freckles on the bridge of her nose, which told him that she hadn't worn much makeup.

_All the better. She has this natural beauty about her and it would be tragic to cover it up._

Of course, he noticed traces of it on her eyes and cheeks but it looked subtle in comparison to her wedding day.

_Still, there was no woman more beautiful than she._

He noticed a small pair of gold studs in her ears that complimented the golden and copper embroidery along the edge of her robes.

_It's been ages since I've seen her wearing robes. She always used to wear Muggle clothes under her standard black robe at the office. Hmm… is she wearing clothes under her robes? Oi... don't even go there, Malfoy._

He looked at her mouth next, looking delectable and pouty as ever.

_Why haven't you kissed the girl, Malfoy? You may be a gentleman but you're definitely not a saint._

Her lips suddenly stopped moving and she was giving him a questioning look.

"Draco?"

He felt his face burn and snapped his eyes onto hers.

"Yes?"

"Are you okay? You had this… peculiar look on your face," she told him, leaning closer to him.

_Damn. Pay attention, Malfoy! Wouldn't serve to get caught daydreaming about her while sitting next to her._

"Yes, sorry. Just thinking about the pasta you mentioned," he told her airily, looking down at his menu.

She nodded slowly but he still felt her watching him for a couple of more seconds before looking down at her own menu. He sighed inwardly and berated himself.

"Do you have any idea what you'll order?" he asked, eyes perusing the menu but not quite reading the descriptions of the food.

"The scallop pasta sounds good," she admitted.

He hummed noncommittally and forced himself to pay closer attention to the menu.

"Good evening my good lady and sir. So sorry to keep you waiting," their waiter spoke, sounding slightly out of breath.

_Probably from dodging those bloody wine bottles._

Draco merely nodded but kept his eyes on the menu.

"I'll start by taking your drink order."

_Obviously._

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes yet again and looked up at their waiter. He was young, probably around their age and kept eyeing Hermione.

_Stupid git._

"What wine would you recommend for us?" Draco asked, needing to exert control.

"Well, that would depend on your food," he smiled a little too widely at him.

Draco felt his eyes narrow for half a second before he gave him his friendliest smile.

"Everybody with half a brain knows that," Draco told him loftily. "Can't we order some good wine for the sake of enjoying good wine?"

A chagrined expression passed through their waiter's face, glancing at Hermione before looking back at Draco. It irritated him to no end but forced himself to keep the pleasant smile on his face.

"You know what? Just bring us a bottle of your best red wine. Thanks," he told him dismissively before turning to look at Hermione.

Draco worried that she was going to tell him off for behaving that way with the waiter but her expression betrayed nothing of the sort. She only smiled at him, quirking a delicate brow.

"I don't appreciate being talked down to," he shrugged easily.

_Nor do I appreciate a waiter ogling my date so blatantly._

A bottle of red wine floated onto their table, pouring itself into the wine glasses before setting itself down.

"Impressive," Draco acknowledged grudgingly.

He gripped the stem and whirled the wine in the glass before taking a sniff.

"Hmm."

She smiled at him and cocked her head slightly.

"Is Draco Malfoy a wine connoisseur?" she teased.

"Not at all. I only know to appreciate the finer things in life," he smiled slowly at her and winked.

Red patches bloomed on her cheeks as she looked down shyly, biting her lower lip.

_That looks delicious. Mind if I got a taste, Hermione?_

Draco grinned and chuckled softly, taking a drink of his wine.

"Oh, you must simply try your wine, Hermione. It's delicious," he purred.

He saw her swallow thickly before peering up at him from under her eyelashes. His breath caught in his throat, his next words disappearing on his tongue. She raised her head slowly and stared at him and Draco wished he could hear her thoughts. But then she shook herself and took a drink from her glass, closing her eyes as though to appreciate the flavor.

"You're right," she sighed delightfully, opening her eyes to look at him.

"I usually am," he smirked.

She rolled her eyes but smiled.

The waiter came back and took their food order. Draco wasn't sure what he ordered since he couldn't tear his eyes away from Hermione but only hoped that it tasted good.

"So, how's work?" she asked him.

"It's good. I wish Pansy wasn't on my arse about everything… literally," he mumbled, shivering.

A tiny crease appeared between Hermione's brows as she contemplated his words.

"What do you… you mean she's… is she harassing you, Draco?" she whispered tightly.

He shrugged and took a drink of wine to avoid answering her outright.

"You should report her."

"You _would_ suggest that, wouldn't you Little Miss Prefect?" he snickered.

Truth be told, Draco had half a mind to. He enjoyed working and having Pansy all over him was a serious distractor from getting his job done. Not that he would welcome or even return her advances but he was just tired of her mindless flirting and innuendos.

To his glee, Hermione blushed prettily. She opened her mouth to retort but he held his hand up and to his immense surprise, she remained quiet.

_That's a first. Then again, she's very respectful._

"I'm a big boy, Granger. I can take care of myself."

She frowned and Draco felt unsure whether it was because of his flippant reply or calling her by her surname. He watched her take a deep, controlling breath before nodding.

"You would know what's best for you, after all," she smiled stiffly at him.

That, in turn, made Draco frown.

He was spared from speaking up when their food arrived; thus, they tucked in.

"Hermione?"

Draco's head snapped up, immediately recognizing the whinging inflection in that voice. He glanced at her, her eyes widening as she turned to the source of the voice. Sure enough, it was Ronald _bloody_ Weasley.

Draco hissed under his breath and watched with narrowed eyes as he approached her, either drunk or unaware since he hadn't noticed Draco yet.

"Ron? What are you… how are you?" she asked pleasantly enough.

"Mione… I miss you so much," he slurred, unsteady on his feet.

_Drunk it is, then. Merlin, what a joke._

"Ron, you should go home. You—"

"Won't you forgive me? Give me another chance! I'm nothing without you," he pleaded, coming closer to her.

"You got that right," Draco bristled.

A second too late he groaned inwardly as Weasley's gaze turned to him, slightly unfocused and bloodshot. A comical look of surprise took over his freckled features and Draco would have laughed but didn't, out of respect to Hermione.

"Malfoy?" he squinted.

"The one and only," Draco drawled, taking a lazy drink of wine.

"Mione… what are you doing with this git?" he rumbled.

"You see, Weasley, when a man fancies a woman he asks her out on a date. Surely you've heard of that particular practice, haven't you?" he sneered, unable to resist taunting him.

Hermione rolled her eyes and he could almost hear her think: _But __**I **__asked __**you**__ out, you coward. _

Still, it was none of Weasley's business to begin with.

"_Date_? Mione… is that… how prepostruous!"

Draco rolled his eyes but kept on smirking the trademark Malfoy smirk at Weasley.

"You had your chance, Weasley," Draco told him sternly. "But you mucked it up. It's time you let her be happy. Not that her happiness should be dependent on you."

"What would _you_ know, Malfoy? You're nothing but—"

"Ron."

"—a good-for-nothing—"

"_Ron._"

"—sonofabitch Death Eater scum."

"_Ronald_," Hermione hissed.

"Sorry, Mione… but it's the truth," Weasley shrugged.

_Nobody insults my mother and gets away with it._

Draco stood up abruptly, causing the wine glasses to sway to and fro.

"Draco," he heard her call out sharply.

"Think you're a big man, don't you Malfoy? Strutting around like you own everything? Well guess what? We're not buying it. We're all waiting for the day that you fuck up so you can—"

"Ronald that is quite enough!" Hermione shouted, rising to her feet and slamming her hands against the tabletop.

The chatter in the restaurant had been reduced to whispers when Weasley had arrived but now everybody went silent and Draco could feel them all staring at the spectacle that Hermione's ex was making.

"But Mione—" he whined.

"As if I wasn't convinced _enough_ that being with you would be a mistake, but you get the _nerve_ to approach me while drunk and bait Draco. Draco, who's been nothing but supportive. And he's a gentleman, something I'm not so sure you know how to be! Perhaps you could stand to learn a few things from him, Ronald. Also, how _dare_ you insult his mother? Narcissa is one of the loveliest women I have the pleasure to have met!"

Draco felt vindicated, absolutely enjoying the nasty shade of puce Weasley's face turned.

_Who would have ever thought I'd live to see the day Hermione Granger defend me, Draco Malfoy?_

Weasley opened his mouth to speak but Hermione interrupted him.

"Where do _you_ get off, trying to judge me? What happened to the boy who was my friend in Hogwarts?" she whispered desolately.

Weasley was obviously struggling to contain his emotions.

_He's probably never felt so many at the same time._

"You broke his heart, Mione."

She stared at him in deep disbelief and shook her head, scoffing softly. She looked down briefly, presumably to gather her thoughts before turning to face him and Draco wondered whether his words would cause her to slap him or to burst into tears.

_I'm really hoping it's the latter. Her tears are lost on that poor excuse of a wizard._

"Because you were a coward," she told him coldly, spearing him with an equally wintry gaze.

_Salazar, I've never heard her use that tone with me. Not even back at Hogwarts._

Weasley winced and took several steps back.

"Let's go, Draco," she said in a softer tone, turning her face to him but still eyeing Weasley.

_I certainly don't need to be told twice._

She grabbed his hand and Draco felt a little startled by the clamminess and iron-grip of her hand. He gave it a squeeze, conveying to her that he was proud of her. He felt the tiniest amount of pressure in return and they started to walk away, hand in hand as whispers erupted throughout the restaurant. She suddenly stopped and turned her face to look at Weasley, who was watching them with a baffled look on his face.

_Still same ol' Weasel, then. _

"Also, I _detest_ the nickname 'Mione,'" she spat, turning around indignantly and storming out.

Draco caught up with her stride easily since he had longer legs than she and stared at her in awe.

_Is it possible to love this woman any more? She put that bastard Weasley where he belongs._

He recognized that she took him to the Apparition point before primly whipping her wand out and waving it forcefully.

_Uh-oh. Hope neither of us gets splinched! _

He opened his eyes and saw that she'd taken them to her door. She was too quiet and it made Draco uneasy.

"Hermione? I'm sorry, I—"

"How dare he?" she snarled, digging her fingers into her scalp. "I'd wanted nothing more than to have a lovely time with you, but he comes along and ruins it!"

Draco watched as she huffed and puffed, untangling her fingers from her hair.

"Everybody's going to know there's something between us now," he told her quietly.

She stilled and turned to him, watching him silently.

"Are you… do you think that I'm somehow embarrassed of you? Perhaps ashamed of being seen with you in public?" she questioned in a tinny voice.

"He's right. I may try to pretend that everything's okay, but truth of the matter is that no matter what, I'll always be seen as the son of a Death Eater and ex-Death Eater scum," he shrugged, looking down at his polished shoes.

Her hands shot out to grab the lapels of his robe and shook him gently.

"Are you out of your ever-loving mind, Malfoy? I don't give a _fig_ what people may or may not think of you or gossip about us. Haven't you learned from tossing insults at me back in school that all of that just bounces off of me? Shouldn't you be giving me a little bit of credit?" she asked him sadly.

"I'm sorry, Hermione."

She stopped shaking him and let go of his lapel, smoothing it out tenderly; her touch felt so intimate that Draco couldn't help but flush.

"I'm sorry too, Draco," she whispered, closing her eyes.

Before he could stop himself, he enveloped her in a hug. She seemed taken aback and Draco almost released her but then she wrapped her arms around him. He sighed softly, pressing his cheek against the top of her head and gave her a squeeze.

"You're right. You're bloody Gryffindor through and through."

He felt her chuckle and she squeezed him back in turn.

_Having her in my arms, it's as though everything is right in the world. Hell, I can even feel my bloody tension melt away… oh, Hermione._

They finally pulled apart and she smiled shyly up at him.

"How about we try this date thing again?" he suggested, lips curving in half a smile.

She chuckled and nodded.

"I'd like nothing more," she sighed.

"Let me plan this next one, alright?"

"Sounds perfect. You're bound to have more finesse than me," she teased.

Draco laughed and shrugged his shoulders vainly.

"I do not doubt that. But you did well, I must say that I was impressed with the place. If only our waiter hadn't been a git and your drunken ex hadn't approached us."

A rueful look crossed her face and she bit her lip.

"I didn't even get to finish my pasta. Or the wine," she pouted.

"Me either. I'm not even sure _what_ I ordered," Draco snickered.

"It looked good."

"_You_ look good."

Draco cringed at his lack of suavity. But instead of looking appalled she seemed surprised at his abruptness and smiled nevertheless, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks.

"You look beautiful," he corrected himself, fingers itching to brush against her cheek.

"So do you," she whispered throatily.

Draco felt a shiver run up and down his spine and fought the urge to smash his lips against hers.

_Finesse, my dearest Draco. _

"I don't think men are supposed to be beautiful," he smirked, trying to lighten the mood despite devouring her with his eyes.

"_You_ are."

He, uncharacteristically, ducked his head slightly but gave her a smile that caused her to lean closer to him.

"It's late," he mumbled, leaning away.

She looked mildly dazed, blinking madly.

"Right…"

"Despite it all, I enjoyed being by your side," he told her honestly.

She smiled hazily and nodded.

"I'll owl you the details about our date," he told her, taking her hand and gently brushing his thumb across her knuckles.

Her lips parted slightly and Draco forced himself to look away from them.

"Goodnight, Hermione," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss against her knuckles.

"'night, Draco," she murmured, still staring at him as though in a trance.

He smiled at her before brushing his lips against her cheek, unable to help himself.

_Go, go now before you're tempted to take things further._

With swish of his robes, he Apparated back to his flat with a _pop!_

"I have a date to plan," he smiled excitedly.

* * *

Thank you for reading everybody! Just wanted to update before my birthday this Friday. Barely a quarter of a century and I feel as though I've got the world resting on my shoulders. XD

Anywho, Merry Christmas and I wish you all a prosperous New Year. :)


	23. Chapter 23

Hello everybody! Not much to say, other than there's a bit of French included. I took it in high school so excuse me if it's a little rusty.

That said...

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing.

* * *

Hermione raised her hand to knock on Draco's door and took a deep breath to settle the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach.

_You're being ridiculous, Hermione. It's just Draco. He's not going to bite you._

She knocked thrice and it wasn't long before he opened the door, looking resplendent as always. He brushed back an errant lock of hair and cocked his head, motioning for her to come in.

"Hi," she said breathily.

He arched an eyebrow at her tone, clearly amused.

"Hey yourself," he replied, shutting the door behind him.

Hermione felt his eyes burn into hers for a couple of long seconds before looking down at her attire. She'd dressed herself in a royal blue wrap dress, knowing the color was especially flattering on her. The material was thick but soft and had no embellishments other than the slight ruching under her breasts and above her waist. It did, however, have an enticing v-neckline that showed a hint of cleavage. She'd looped the 'wrap' portion of the dress around her waist, giving her body a slightly curvaceous look, before trying it to the side to let the extra material cascade down her side. The sleeves of her dress fell a little above the crook of her arm while the hemline of the dress skimmed the lower part of her knees.

To Hermione's delight, Draco opened his mouth but when nothing came, closed it primly before looking into her eyes once more.

"You're an absolute vision," he told her softly, stepping closer to her.

Hermione blushed delightedly, looking down shyly. He very gently smoothed a wisp of hair from her face and Hermione couldn't help but look up at him.

"You look amazing," she blurted out.

He really did. He wore charcoal trousers that seemed to be expertly tailored with a black, long sleeved button up shirt tucked into them. That, too, seem to hug every muscle of his upper body; Hermione could almost feel herself drool at the sight of him. His feet were clad in a pair of highly polished, black shoes.

_Oh, for the love of… tactful, Hermione._

A corner of Draco's lip quirked up, pewter eyes swirling with an emotion that caused her butterflies to quiver back to life. She felt the smallest pressure on her earlobe and belatedly Hermione realized that he'd caressed it.

"Shouldn't we… erm, be on our way?" she squeaked.

Draco blinked and pulled away, nodding.

"You're right. Wouldn't want to be late or lose this reservation," he winked at her.

Hermione swallowed thickly and bobbed her head in agreement, despite being unaware of where precisely he was taking her. After their last disastrous date, she decided to give him full rein over this one.

She watched Draco sweep from the living room and she gave herself a last one-over to make sure that every hair and cosmetic product was in its proper place. She'd smoothed her curls in a low chignon but made sure that it didn't look too neat by letting some curls fall out. She'd forgone using makeup on her face aside from mascara, cheek rouge and lipstick that matched the color of her lips. Hermione had almost slipped her feet into a pair of flats but deigned to slip into a pair of nude high heels. For the proverbial cherry on top, she'd spritzed herself lightly with her favorite perfume.

_All the better to make your legs look longer, my dear! Honestly, you need all the help you can get with that._

Hermione gripped her clutch tightly, feeling giddy with what the evening was going to bring them. Draco reappeared again with wand in hand before looking around one last time. Finally, he turned to her, holding his arm out to her.

"You ready to go?"

"Yes," she smiled, bounding to him.

He gave her an enigmatic smile as she took hold of his warm and toned arm, giving it a brief squeeze before they disappeared with a _pop!_

This Apparition felt a little longer than the usual one, causing Hermione to feel a little lightheaded. Thankfully, her feet touched earth not long after. She'd held on a little _too_ tightly to Draco, but he didn't seem to mind one bit. She heaved a sigh before a familiar scent in the air caught her attention…

Hermione looked around wildly, the lights overwhelming her for a moment.

_Wait, I've been here before…_

"Draco! You brought me to Paris," she gasped, turning to look up at him in disbelief.

He gave her a very smug smile, eyes shining jubilantly.

"So I did."

"I… I'm speechless. This is very thoughtful."

She couldn't be sure, but Hermione thought that Draco was blushing.

"I just wanted to make this date unforgettable," he shrugged, looking ahead. "Shall we?"

_Oh, believe me... there is no comparison._

"Oh, yes. Are we… going to eat in wizarding Paris?" she asked curiously, watching him from the corner of her eye.

"Already here, aren't we?" he smiled cheekily.

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled, letting him guide her.

"We'll have a beautiful, one-of-a-kind view. Of that I can assure you."

They walked in silence although Hermione wasn't entirely surprised to realize it felt comfortable, almost natural. Usually, she'd try to think of a topic to chatter the other's person ear off, but she didn't find that necessary with Draco. Besides, she felt a little intoxicated at having him so close, not to mention that he smelled _so bloody good._

"Here we are," he murmured as they crossed the cobblestone street, gently pressing his hand against her lower back.

Hermione snapped her head up just in time to glance at the restaurant's façade for a second before stepping through the ornate double French doors.

The scent of delicious food wafting through the air was the first thing Hermione noticed. Next, she heard the strains of tranquil but romantic music in the background while the conversations in the restaurant flowed steadily.

Draco led them to the hostess, who watched Draco with an interested smile on her pretty face. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the girl but it didn't really seem to matter since she was practically invisible to her.

_I suppose that's one thing I'll have to get used to: having women ogle Draco. Don't get too possessive! He's not yours… yet._

"Nom?"

"Malfoy."

"Pour… deux?" she asked critically, tearing her eyes away from him to give a disinterested look at Hermione.

"Oui," Draco answered her exasperatedly.

Hermione grinned but looked away, not wanting to look like the cat that ate the canary.

_Take that, miss priss!_

A waiter popped up next to them, smiling politely at them.

"Par ici, monsieur et madame."

Hermione had taken some French lessons when she'd been a teenager but felt a little rusty then. She still understood the basics of the language but watching two pink spots appear on Draco's cheeks made her curious as to _what _exactly the waiter told him.

_Didn't he call us 'sir' and 'madam'? What's so queer about that?_

They were led up the stairs to the third floor, which was much less packed than the two floors below it. They crossed the room only to be led another set of beautifully ornate double French doors, which led to the balcony… that gave them a spectacular look of the Eiffel Tower.

There was a table set for two and there seemed to be a weather-controlling charm that blocked the temperature from being too cold; or, as Hermione eyed the romantic candles set on the table, to keep it from being too windy.

"Draco, this is… wonderful," she sighed, reaching out for her chair.

But quick as a flash, Draco smiled and pulled the chair out for her, gesturing for her to sit down.

"Thank you," she mumbled, blushing.

_I don't think anybody's ever done that before. While I'd usually think that I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself, it feels nice to be lavished with attention. Oh, the perks of dining with a true gentleman._

"You're very welcome," he nodded, sitting down. "So… you like the view?"

She looked over the rail of the balcony (which was entwined with a medley of red, white and pink roses) and sighed dreamily.

"It's… breathtaking, Draco. I'd forgotten just _how_ spectacular the lights looked after sunset."

"Oh, so you've been here before?"

"Sure, twice. Once with my parents and the next with—"

He gave her a curious look, tilting his head slightly.

"Who did you come with? Weasley?"

"No," she laughed, shaking her head. "Ron never really cared for Paris. I believe he said it was _t__oo artsy_ for his taste."

Draco merely rolled his eyes, draping the silk napkin across his lap.

"He _would_ think so. So… who was it, then?" he pressed.

She fidgeted slightly in her seat and took a quick drink of water, needing to moisten her suddenly parched mouth.

_Wait, when did the glasses get filled with water? They were empty when we sat down._

"Viktor," she murmured, turning to look at the Eiffel Tower once more.

He remained quiet for a few seconds though she could feel his eyes on her.

"_Krum_? Viktor Krum?"

She nodded her head, not quite trusting herself to speak.

"So I guess those rumors were right," he chuckled softly.

Hermione tore her eyes from the beacon of light that was the tower and turned to frown at Draco.

"We've always _only_ been friends."

"Well, I've always thought that he was a surly git," he sneered, crossing his arms petulantly.

"Draco," she admonished lightly.

"For Salazar's sake, Granger," he rolled his eyes. "If you lot thought I was bad, strutting around the castle you should have seen _him_!"

Hermione couldn't help but giggle.

"_I _thought he was sweet."

"You and your Gryffindor bleeding heart… of course you did," he murmured, sulking as he looked down at the cutlery.

"He was the very first one to notice that I was more than Hermione Granger the bookworm," she told him softly.

Draco's eyes flickered onto her, looking both guilty and pensive for a second.

"_I_ knew you were a girl," he pouted.

Hermione laughed.

"Fat lot of help that was," she teased, leaning forward.

He glowered at her before straightening his back.

At that moment, their waiter appeared again and handed them their menus. He spoke in rapid French and Hermione felt stumped… until Draco spoke back in equally flawless French; she stared at him and noticed how sexy his mouth looked uttering the 'language of love.' As a matter of fact, Hermione found _all _of Draco sexy. The way the candlelight illuminated his flawless skin to the way a lock of moonlit hair rested on his brow…

_How did I not notice how scrumptious this man was? _

_Simple, Hermione. It was easy to overlook due to his obnoxiousness and over-all prat self. But as the saying goes, better late than never._

The waiter was soon gone and Draco turned back to her, noticing her dazed expression and raised a pale eyebrow in question. She blushed and shook her head, taking a nervous drink of water.

"I still remember just how astonished I felt when I saw _you_ walk in on his arm at the Yule Ball," he spoke quietly. "A part of me couldn't deal that it was _you_ but at the same time… I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

"I don't think you were the only one," she chuckled, resting her chin on the back of her hand. "I could have sworn I heard Ron say _bloody hell_ when he saw me."

"I was really surprised you didn't go with him. Or Potter," Draco admitted.

"I think I was more of a last resort to them," she told him wryly.

"Oh?"

"They didn't get their dream dates with Fleur and Cho so Ron suggested one of them could go with me," Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You're kidding me!" Draco gasped, silver eyes widening.

"Ron wanted Fleur and Harry wanted Cho," she explained, shrugging.

He laughed merrily, shaking his head.

"What fools."

"Truth was, I probably _would_ have accepted going with either one of them but the fact that I wasn't even a blip on their radar… well, that stung. So when Viktor asked me, it was an easy decision."

Draco remained quiet, his laughter long vanished.

"Not to mention that it was _extremely_ flattering to be asked by such a popular Quidditch player. I still remember how he approached me…" she smiled fondly.

Draco rolled his eyes, mouth tightening into a straight line.

"Smarmy bastard," he muttered.

"Are you jealous?" she teased him.

Draco glared at her before scoffing derisively.

"Me? Jealous of that oaf? Never!"

Hermione hid her smile behind her hand, finding his tantrum adorable.

"Okay, Draco."

"What is there to be jealous about? One look at his face and you'd have known he's a Seeker but one look at mine and I could pass as some sort of deity," he smirked, arching an eyebrow smugly.

"He may not have had a pretty face like yours but he was kind to me… not to mention that he gave me my first kiss."

Draco blinked owlishly and pursed his lips in displeasure.

"I suppose I'm not surprised. Bet he was lousy," he groused.

"It was my first, I wouldn't have known," she chuckled. "But now that I think about it… it wasn't bad. Certainly not the best but it was an adequate first kiss."

"I suppose mine wasn't bad, either," he told her thoughtfully, stroking his chin.

"Let me guess… Parkinson?"

"Correct. Study Legilimency, did you?" he teased, smirking at her.

"No, I always felt like I was dealing with something or other. There were even times when I felt like my brain would overheat because of all the information I crammed in there. And that's because I certainly never took as many classes as I did back in third year."

Draco cocked his head in thought.

"I think you would have mastered it. Occlumensy, on the other hand…" he sighed, furrowing his brows.

"Hang on… you know Occlumensy?" Hermione gaped at him.

"Along with Legilimency. Father thought it'd be useful," he grimaced, shrugging as though it were nothing.

"Draco, that's… _wow_. I'm impressed! I know they're not easy subjects to learn," she gasped, leaning closer excitedly.

"I've always considered myself far better at Occlumensy, though," he shrugged. "So, _how_ did you manage to take all those classes in third year? I'm certain you didn't ask Potter or Weasley for notes."

"I was granted permission to use a Time-Turner," she told him quietly.

His eyes widened comically and his mouth hung open as he stared at her.

"That… I'm not surprised. What _wouldn't_ they give to their precious Golden Girl?" he murmured though there was no vitriol behind his words.

"If McGonagall wouldn't have petitioned one for me, I'm not so sure I would have gotten it... _Golden Girl_ or not."

Draco merely rolled his eyes but was spared from replying by the waiter, who returned with a bottle of wine. He opened it with magic and the bottle filled their glasses magically. He shot a question at Draco who didn't hesitate to nod.

"Honey Provencal duck."

_Oh, so he's taking our order._

"Et madame?" he turned to her, giving her a smile.

"Blueberry balsamic chicken, s'il vous plait," she smiled shyly.

"Oui," he nodded, writing down her order efficiently before whisking their menus away and disappearing once more.

Draco was staring into his wine, brooding.

"I'm sorry if my swottish attitude annoyed you, Draco… but it was how I knew how to be," she told him honestly.

He looked up at her, slightly startled.

"For Merlin's sake, Granger, why are you apologizing about _that_ of all things?"

_So it seems like he's reverted to calling me Granger once more._

"It just seemed like one of the things that annoyed you about me the most," she shrugged, taking a sip of her wine.

It tasted wonderfully crisp with a hint of sweetness.

"I'm sure I wasn't the only one," Draco joked, taking a drink of his own wine.

"Definitely not," she snorted inelegantly. "The Sorting Hat considered putting me in Ravenclaw."

"I'm not surprised, really. But what made it sort you into Gryffindor?" he asked her curiously.

"I thought… that maybe I'd be less lonely in Gryffindor," she blushed, looking down. "Which turned out to be a poor assumption, now that I think about it. If it hadn't been for that mountain troll first year, I never would have become Harry and Ron's friend."

"And wouldn't _that_ have been a bloody tragedy?" Draco grumbled under his breath.

"I know you didn't like each other as children, but now that we're all grown up that could change. I mean, I don't think Ron will ever stop, erm, _disliking_ you… but I can definitely see you and Harry becoming friends."

His eyes widened at her suggestion.

"Are you mad?" he chuckled. "I'm sure Potter would love nothing more than to curse m—"

He couldn't continue his sentence because he snapped his teeth together and looked away, clenching his jaw tensely.

_That's right, sixth year. What was Harry thinking?! I'd been so upset that he almost killed Draco. Of course, back then I'd told him that I was angry that he'd gotten the curse from a stranger who had written in the book but now that I think about it… I was worried about Draco. If it hadn't been for Snape, well… he wouldn't be here with me now._

Hermione leaned forward to press her hand gently over his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He looked at her from the corner of his eye before slowly turning to look at her and then at their hands.

"Sorry that you had to go through that, Draco," she told him sincerely.

He stared at her, obviously flummoxed.

"I suppose… that, er… this would be good time as any to acknowledge that I went to visit you while you were unconscious," she blushed deeply, looking down at her lap.

"What?" he whispered.

"I visited you that night. Under Harry's Invisibility Cloak, of course. It would have been really suspicious if someone had caught me otherwise."

"You… went to see me?" he breathed out.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Why?"

"I was worried," she answered earnestly.

"You were worried… about me," he stated flatly, watching her warily. "Wait, Potter has an Invisibility Cloak?"

"So _that_ is what you choose to pick up from the conversation," she joked, rolling her eyes. "But yes, it was his father's."

"So _that_ is how you lot always ended up in the middle of everything," he smirked.

"Well, yes," she blushed, taking a drink of wine.

Quick as flash, Draco flipped his hand so that the palms of their hands were touching. Very tenderly, he stroked the flesh at the inside of her wrist, sending delicious shivers down to her toes.

"Thank you," he whispered, looking deeply into her eyes. "Nice to know someone cared."

"You may have been a prat but that didn't mean you deserved to die. It was very foolish of Harry to have pulled an unknown spell. Then again, he was rather shaken too," she confessed, biting her lip.

"Potter? Concerned over me? Right," he scoffed.

"Better believe it. He felt really guilty and immediately disposed of the book."

"Which turned out to be Snape's."

Hermione nodded, relishing the warmth of his hand.

_If he hadn't been nearby..._

Hermione suppressed a shudder and instead looked into the smoky depths of Draco's eyes, feeling ridiculously thankful to their old Potions professor.

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I'd like to thank everybody who's still sticking with me. It really shouldn't have taken me this long to publish a chapter but sometimes, life just gets in the way. But I digress. Thank you for reading, reviewing, adding the story to favorites and following it. :)


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: As always, thanks for your continued support. I truly appreciate it. :) Also, this chapter is a continuation from last's, but from Draco's perspective.

Disclaimer: I own nothin'.

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Draco resisted the urge to move his chair to sit next to her, focusing instead on how comforting and warm her hand felt. Sure, he'd held it before but had more pressing matters on his mind at the time. But now, he was free to savor touching her even if it was only her hand.

_I still can't believe she visited me in the Hospital Wing. Why should she care if I'd died or not? I'd been nothing but a bully to her yet she managed find it in her heart to worry about me. Though I'm sure I would have been less than gracious had I seen her lurking about. In fact, I would have thought that she had come to finish me off._

"You know…" she spoke, breaking Draco from his reverie.

He snapped his eyes to focus on her face and gave what he hoped looked like an encouraging nod.

"For Slughorn's Christmas do, I'd originally planned on asking Ron to go with me. I'd even mentioned it him, come to think of it. Of course, the git hooked up with Lavender before I had a chance to formally ask him and it hurt that he would choose her over me in the first place, considering that things between us had been changing. Anyway, as payback, I'd made a list of all the boys he found annoying and I was going to pick one of those to take to the party. Ultimately, I chose McLaggen but…" she trailed off, biting her lip enticingly.

"Yes?" he breathed out, genuinely curious.

"I'd seriously considered asking you," she blushed fiercely, looking down at her lap. "But when I realized that your hatred of Ron wouldn't make me less of a Mudblood in your eyes, I scrapped the idea."

Draco felt as though his heart jumped up into his throat.

"You were going to ask… me?" he whispered with a furrowed brow.

"Well, yes. I was no stranger to the animosity between you two and knew that he'd probably _despise_ seeing you as my date more than McLaggen. But I realized that the insults and snide remarks you were bound to throw at me all night wouldn't be worth it," she finished wryly. "Well, assuming you'd deign to tell me yes. Now that I think about it, rejecting me harshly in public would've been more up your alley."

Draco blushed and swallowed thickly.

"You're probably right about that," he admitted, nodding his head slowly. "Although to be honest with you… ever since that punch you gave me, there was a part of me that was left feeling… unsettled."

She tilted her head to the side endearingly and gave him a questioning look.

"Not everybody got to throw a punch at Draco Malfoy and lived to tell the tale. Despite all of my antagonizing, or maybe because of it, I couldn't help but feel grudging admiration for you. Not only that, but I hardly let anybody get close enough to me, let alone _touch_ me. But somehow you managed both and it startled me," he chuckled, brushing his thumb across the fleshy part on the palm of her hand. "The day of the Yule Ball you shook me up even more. I know I'd made a lot of disparaging remarks about your looks but truth was, I didn't truly think you were hideous. But then you showed up with smooth hair and fitting robes in a flattering color… it made an impression on me. It made me realize that you weren't the troll I constantly made you out to be… and it shook me to my core."

"I wish I could have seen your face," she laughed, tossing her head back.

"I think it was an equal mixture of disbelief, scorn and desire."

"Desire?" she straightened up, giving him a serious look.

Draco fidgeted and looked down at their hands.

"You looked beautiful… who wouldn't want to have you on their arm?" he mumbled, peeking up at her through his lashes.

This time she brushed her fingers lightly against the inside of his wrist, sending delicious shivers up his arm.

"A very stubborn, red-haired git comes immediately to mind."

Draco scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Weasley isn't exactly known for his brilliance," he told her stiffly. "Everything he put you through just proves me right."

She remained silent and Draco dared to look at her, half-expecting to see a woeful expression on her face. To his immense surprise, she merely looked lost in thought.

"But to _my_ surprise, you made me feel better," she confessed. "You remember, right?"

Draco nodded quietly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"I didn't have it in me to be an arse. Especially not when you looked so bloody beautiful or with your guard that low."

_Not that it'd stopped me before. But I just couldn't that night._

"Thanks, Draco," she told him, giving him a little smile. "I should probably also thank you for warning me after the World Cup earlier that year."

Draco froze, remembering the turmoil he'd felt over watching the helpless Muggles floating in the air and not wanting to see her being among them.

"It was… nothing," he shook his head. "I may not have liked you then but you certainly didn't deserve that, especially when my father would have loved nothing more than to be the one to do that to you."

Her eyes softened and her mouth relaxed into a small smile.

"Your words were off-putting but the warning was there. What was it you told me? _If I were you, I'd keep that big bushy head of yours down_," she parroted, giving him a haughty look.

Draco laughed and raised his brow.

"I didn't sound like that!"

"You did too. Then you said something along the lines of… if I didn't want to show my knickers off then I'd be smart to move on… or something like that," Hermione shrugged.

Draco nodded thoughtfully.

"I really did appreciate it," she told him fervently.

He was about to respond when their waiter arrived with their food. A succulent aroma encapsulated them as their plates were magically set down on the table.

"Bon apetit, monsieur et madame."

"Merci."

"Merci!"

He bowed his head and left them to their own devices once more.

"This looks absolutely mouthwatering," she sighed dreamily, looking down at her plate.

Draco smiled and watched as she tucked in, closing her eyes and giving a delightful little sigh as she chewed.

"That good, huh?"

She gave him a wide-eyed nod and took a drink of her wine. He chuckled and cut into his own dinner, releasing an even more delicious scent than before. He chewed slowly, savoring the marinated duck.

"I'm guessing you've been here before."

Draco looked at her wearily, wondering what Hermione was trying to get at. Instead of responding verbally, he shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, taking another bite of dinner.

"Out of curiosity, how many women have you brought here before?" she questioned doggedly.

He cringed internally but managed to keep his cool demeanor all the same.

"Probably not as many as you're assuming," he replied honestly, giving her a wicked little smirk.

Draco watched as Hermione's face grew rosy in the candlelight; he found himself amused when she looked down at her place, hastily cutting up her chicken into tinier morsels.

"You certainly didn't have a reputation for being a lady's man for nothing."

Draco chuckled and watched as the pink splotches on her cheeks grew brighter.

"I suppose I was something of a Casanova back in my school days," he shrugged casually.

"Merlin knows why you stuck with Pansy in school, though," she shivered, taking a long drink of wine.

"I can assure you that it was mostly a façade. At least on my part," he frowned, recalling of her forwardness at work. "I don't know why she always hung on to every little word I said, simpering foolishly and staring at me as though she would go blind if she didn't."

"But isn't that what you wanted? Adoration?"

"I always did prefer to be feared," Draco grinned at her.

Hermione only rolled her eyes and muttered, "Of course you did."

"We did travel a lot. Mother, father and myself, I mean. It only made sense to have a couple of girls at my disposal so I wouldn't get bored," he smiled toothily, looking forward to her reaction.

She blinked dazedly for a couple of seconds before looking mightily indignant.

_Probably the way I worded myself._

"That's… I'm not really surprised," she murmured, looking down at her food.

"Of course, after my trial, it became difficult to for me to date… or whatever semblance of dating I ever did. I became so focused on my redemption that I felt like it would consume me. Of course, by then not that many women were throwing themselves at me. I may still have had the Malfoy riches but the prestige of being such was no longer."

"Must have been tough for you."

"Not as tough as you'd like to believe. I've always fancied myself as a lone wolf even if I was always surrounded by peers in school. Of course, there were moments when I…" he trailed off, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"…felt lonely," she finished for him quietly.

Draco didn't have it in him to make eye contact but nodded.

_How strange to bare myself like this. It's not unpleasant, mostly because it's her I'm opening up to, but it's not particularly easy._

"I understand. Even when I was not twenty feet away from Harry or Ron while on the run, there were moments when these terrible _pangs _of loneliness would hit me. It was a ridiculous but sobering thought of how serious it all was."

_That's right. The Golden Trio had skipped their last year of school to go hunting for the pieces of… his soul._

"Couldn't have been pleasant rooming with those two," Draco joked, trying to lighten the mood.

"It wasn't so bad. After getting hold of the locket each one of us took turns wearing it. _That_ wasn't very pleasant," she muttered, frowning. "I mean, it had a _bit_ of Voldemort's soul in it! Ron hadn't always so easy to get along with, but when it was his turn to wear it, he became downright nasty. There was this one time in particular... he blew things out of proportion, yelling at Harry until he grabbed his things. He was wearing the locket, naturally. He proceeded to inquire whether I was going with him but I simply couldn't! I mean, we'd _promised_ to help Harry! And even then, if we hadn't given our word, I'd have still tagged along because I couldn't have left Harry embark such a journey on his own... but I digress. We went in knowing there'd be moments when everything would feel bleak and futile… so he ended up leaving us."

_I have a feeling Potter wouldn't have been as victorious without Hermione by his side, the lucky bastard._

Draco couldn't help but scowl.

"He left you and Potter? Here I thought my opinion of him couldn't get any worse," he scoffed contemptuously.

"I'd like to think it was the horcrux that was encouraging those feelings. Thankfully he took it off before he left. Not that we had a way of destroying it then."

"I'm guessing the three of you reunited since…" Draco trailed off, thinking back to when they were brought in by the Snatchers to their manor.

"Yes, but not until weeks later. The only good thing his return brought was that he destroyed the locket," she spoke tightly.

"I'm not the biggest Weasley sympathizer, but surely you don't mean that?" Draco asked her softly.

"I ran out after him, crying and pleading for him not to leave," she told him in a haunted whisper.

Draco noticed how grim Hermione's demeanor had become. He couldn't really blame her, it couldn't have been easy for her and Potter not knowing whether he'd go back to them or not.

_Fucking Weasley… and I thought I was a coward. It's not saying much, but I'd like to believe I'm a better man than he._

"How did the two of you even get together? The mind reels."

"It was after going down to the Chamber of Secrets to grab basilisk fangs. He'd made a comment about going to the kitchens to warn the house-elves so we wouldn't get any more casualties like Dobby. It was then I realized that there was a lot more going on in his brain than he let on. So I dropped the fangs I'd been holding in my arms and flew at him," she chuckled softly. "We kissed and laughed, voicing out loud why it took us so long to reach that point."

Draco squirmed, attempting to squash his dislike of Weasley even further.

"So you were the one who made the move? Not him?" he sneered, hoping he sounded less rattled than he felt.

"That's right. All the grief I could have saved myself from if I'd known before," she rolled her eyes. "It only made sense to become a couple afterwards."

"Always so sensible," Draco smiled wryly.

She gave a halfhearted shrug and finished her dinner. Draco watched her, musing how a brilliant and beautiful woman like herself could ever settle for someone like Weasley.

_Weasley, who's never been particularly intelligent or talented._

"I'm curious about something," he told her quietly.

She raised her gaze to meet his, prompting him to continue.

"As far as I know, you love organizing and making tedious lists. It bewilders me why you'd appoint someone to plan your wedding for you, when it would seem like it'd be a task right up your alley," Draco told her, cutting up the last of his duck.

Hermione froze and paled before him. For a moment Draco cursed himself, thinking that he'd gone too far and was on the verge of apologizing when she finally spoke up.

"That should have been the first clue that my heart wasn't really into marrying him," she responded in a soft voice. "As per usual, I blamed work and not having enough time to do it myself. But that was a lie. It was a like a part of me didn't want to partake because I didn't really care."

Draco blinked, unsure of how to respond to that even if part of him had suspected that already.

_But to hear it straight from her mouth…_

"It most certainly didn't help that you and I had gotten closer," she said, giving him a little smile. "But then _you_ got engaged and that put a stop to any doubts on my behalf."

"Some engagement," he rolled his eyes. "I had resigned myself, truthfully. I'd told myself that I could have done worse than Astoria since she seemed to care for me genuinely. But I knew that I would never be able to love her and that made me realize that she deserved better."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully as the waiter arrived to whisk off their empty plates.

"Dessert?" he asked me.

"Oui, gâteau au chocolat, s'il vous plait."

He vanished with a bow.

"Did I just hear you order something chocolate?" Hermione smiled excitedly.

"You'll have to find out, won't you?" Draco smirked, waggling his eyebrows.

She gave him a mock-stern look before taking a drink of wine.

_She's told me so much about herself that I feel compelled to give a little bit of myself to her. Damn you, Lucius, for making me so averse to talking about my emotions... or just opening up in general._

"I was so surprised to see you in Flourish and Blott's that day. I hadn't seen you in _ages_ and… and I felt a little overwhelmed, truth be told. I felt like a boy again, unsure and by the looks of it, you felt the same way," he chuckled. "I still remember the wide-eyed look you gave me, wondering if the body snatchers had gotten a hold of me. Despite the way I behaved towards you in school, you seemed to give me the benefit of the doubt. It was refreshing and… it made me want to continue talking to you. But you excused yourself and left me feeling startled and dazed. To my everlasting surprise, the position Kingsley Shacklebolt offered me would only lead me to you again. It was no secret that you and Weasley were together but I thought to myself that perhaps we could be good colleagues... it was certainly the most I could have hoped for then."

Hermione nodded quietly, watching him intently which prompted Draco to continue talking.

"I readied myself to become annoyed and exasperated by you but the complete opposite happened: I just wanted to know more about you. You certainly have the same qualities as you did in school except that now you aren't as eager or in-your-face about it, which I certainly appreciated. Where I used to see a bookish, know-it-all I saw a brilliant, hard-working woman. Before I knew it, I… began to fancy you," he blushed, breaking eye contact with her. "Still, I knew _nothing_ would ever come of my crush since you were with Weasley. Yet I couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable you would become when he stopped by your office. That itself flared foolish hope in my heart. But then you convinced me to go to the Leaky Cauldron…"

"I'll never forget that night."

Her voice sounded so tender that Draco couldn't help but look at her.

"It made me aware that I was attracted to you," she smiled shyly at him.

Draco's heart fluttered like the wings of a Snitch.

"Really?"

"Monsieur et madame Malfoy," the waiter appeared, holding their chocolate cake.

He set it in the middle of the table and snapped his fingers, slicing the cake.

"Merci, Jacques," Draco nodded, signaling for Hermione to help herself.

"Ooh this looks _so_ good!" Hermione squealed, not hesitating to serve herself a piece. "Aren't you going to have some?"

"Yes, in a bit."

"If memory serves, I remember all the sweets that your eagle owl would bring you from home. I'm guessing you had a bit of a sweet tooth, didn't you?" she asked him keenly.

"Your memory is flawless. Unfortunately, going through... the things I went through forced me to give up most pleasures I'd previously indulged."

Her warm eyes melted at his words, chewing slowly.

"Is it as good as it smells?" he asked, hoping for a change of topic.

"Even better," she sighed, her eyes twinkling.

Draco smiled at her pleasure and stood in a fluid motion. She stared up at him and he shrugged.

"Going to enjoy the view," he told her softly, walking toward the rail.

_She has such a kind heart, I'm definitely undeserving of anything she might feel for me. Perhaps loving her is my redemption… no, that's not quite right. Getting her to love me would be the ultimate redemption._

Draco had been so lost in thought that he didn't hear her footsteps approach him. He almost jumped out of his skin when her warm hand pressed against his shoulder, stepping close to him.

"Beautiful view," she murmured.

He looked down at her and felt his heart clench at her proximity.

_How can someone like her ever possibly love me?_

"Yes," he agreed, not taking his eyes off of her.

The lights from the tower illuminated her, making her skin glow and her warm eyes impossibly vibrant. She turned to him and a beautiful blush spread over her cheeks.

_Oh, Merlin… how can I not tell her I love her? Easy, Malfoy, you don't want to scare her off! She seems to like me so far and I don't want to screw things up._

Her hand slowly traveled up his shoulder until her fingertips were brushing the nape of his neck. Draco shivered, relishing her touch and made his decision right then and there, pulling her into his arms and pressing his lips gently against hers. She gasped and stilled for a second before wrapping her arms around his neck, moving her lips clumsily against his. That endeared her to him even further, making his heart swell with affection for her. He felt blood flood to his face as she nipped his lip gently, causing him to bring her body closer to his, resting one of his hands on her lower back while the other gripped her shoulder. She gave a little groan and lightly tugged at the hair on his nape. He groaned next, telling himself not to move the hand on her lower back any lower despite how badly he was tempted to. Their kiss grew hotter and a little needy, finally separating when they ran out of air. They stared at each other, breathless and red-faced.

She'd tasted of everything that Draco had missed in his life: warmth, tenderness and chocolate.

"That was…"

"…the best kiss I've ever had," she smiled timidly, lightly brushing her fingers against his cheek. "Thank you, Draco. For everything. It's all been so beautiful and unforgettable."

Draco beamed and pulled her into a hug, wishing he could stay in this moment forever.

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Thanks for taking the time to read/review/follow/favorite!


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: As per Jedi SteelWolf's request, Hermione used to work in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and currently works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Her job, however, has no effect on what goes on in the fic, though.

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothin'.

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_Hermione,_

_ How are you? Feel like it's been ages since I last saw you. I've been busy training all these new Junior Aurors that Robards employed on his most recent hiring spree… but well, I reckon you know all about work keeping you busy. If you don't have any plans, how about grabbing lunch together? That way, we can catch up. Look forward to hearing from you._

_Miss you,_

_Harry_

Hermione stared at the memo with a small smile curling the edge of her lips but felt a jolt of disappointment pass through her at the thought of lunch.

_Damn, I was supposed to meet with Draco today… surely he won't mind?_

She grabbed a sheet of parchment used for Interdepartmental Memos and penned a quick note before sending it on its way. Hermione moved her pens and paperclips about, using reorganization as an outlet for her edginess. Not five minutes later, a Memo breezed into her office and landed on her desk.

_Hermione, I don't mind at all. Send ol' Scarhead my love._

She snorted at his response and shook her head; his sense of humor never failed to amuse her. Still, despite the levity in his reply, she stared at his elegant script and bit her lower lip. Hermione's fingers twitched, barely resisting the urge to write back an 'Are you sure?' but held off, imagining his response. He'd probably roll his eyes and give his head a small shake before sighing loudly.

"_For crying out loud, Granger, I'm sure. I'm a big boy, there's no need to baby me."_

Hermione chuckled softly and shook herself, picking up her quill to respond to Harry. She sent the Memo off and stared at the clock on her wall.

_Ten more minutes to lunch, I hope Harry receives my reply on time._

But since they both worked in the same department, Hermione received his answer and grinned, standing up in a single motion. She glanced at her work robes, which she'd hung on a coat rack behind her and hesitated. She looked down at her lilac, long sleeved blouse which was tucked into a charcoal tweed pencil skirt and sighed softly. It felt silly to admit it at first, but she'd chosen the outfit with Draco in mind. Hermione had wanted to wow him since she usually stuck to a white and black color palette for work.

_No, better put the robe on. Muggle clothes may have become more socially acceptable to wear in public, but I know I'd probably get quite a few looks… better not risk it._

She slipped her robes on but didn't fasten them, letting her clothes underneath peek through. She grabbed her bag and headed out, praying that she wouldn't arrive late.

The day was sunny and slightly breezy, perfect for the little deli that she and Harry had agreed to meet. She recognized her best friend's ebony mop of hair sitting underneath a red umbrella and walked faster, begging to Merlin that the thin heels of her shoes wouldn't get caught between the cobblestone ground.

"Harry!" she called out, unable to help the building excitement in her stomach.

He turned toward the sound of her voice and stood up, grinning widely as he opened his arms. Hermione bounded into them, giving him an affectionate hug. They pulled away simultaneously and she beamed at him while Harry gave her a boyish grin in return. She took a seat across from him and stared at his face, letting memories of all their adventures wash over her.

"So, how are you, Hermione?" he asked her seriously.

She tilted her head slightly and gave him a curious look, arching her brow.

"I'm fine, Harry. Busy with work but I'm sure you're not overly surprised to hear that," she smirked.

He blinked and an odd expression came over his face but soon smoothed it over.

"Are you really, Hermione?" he pressed quietly, his emerald eyes flashing knowingly.

Hermione resisted the urge to fidget and looked down at the table instead.

"Good afternoon and welcome to… _oh, my Circe!_ It's Harry Potter and Hermione Granger!" the waitress squealed, grinning widely at the pair.

Hermione cringed and forced a smile on her face, looking away from the waitress but feeling oddly relieved by her arrival.

_Not that it'll stop Harry from asking me again. He's far too intuitive for his sake._

"Whatever you order, it's on the house!" she chirped enthusiastically, clasping her hands together.

Hermione exchanged a look with Harry before turning to look back at her.

"I'll have a club sandwich with a side of chips. Oh, and iced water, please," Hermione told her politely.

To her surprise, Harry ordered a chicken salad and pumpkin juice.

"Eating healthy, are we?" she joked, wanting to forestall whatever lecture her friend had in mind.

"Robards mentioned something about wanting us to keep in shape," Harry smirked but shrugged half-heartedly. "I just follow orders, honestly.

"I'm sure it helps that The Chosen One does it, setting _the_ example for others to follow," Hermione pointed out slyly.

Harry blushed, shrugging again and she smiled fondly at her friend.

"So…" he insisted, giving her a meaningful look.

Hermione sighed and refrained from rolling her eyes.

"If you're asking how I've been ever since the wedding was called off, Harry… then I'm fine," she answered curtly, taking a napkin and smoothing it over her lap.

He frowned at her and despite her snappish response, Hermione knew he saw right through her.

"You're feeling guilty, aren't you? But as I'm sure you know, the Weasley's don't blame you. Specifically, _Molly_ doesn't blame you if that's—"

"I just feel like I've betrayed them," she interrupted him, looking into his bright eyes.

Harry gave her a sympathetic nod and reached out to pat her hand.

"I'm pretty sure Molly would rather have you as a daughter than Ron as a son at this point in time. He was undesirable number one at The Burrow for quite a while," Harry chortled, pulling his hand away to take a sip of the drinks that had arrived at their table.

"I can just imagine."

"_Hermione._"

Harry's voice sounded so serious that Hermione looked up at him.

"You can't keep blaming yourself. It's not healthy," he told her softly.

"I know," she whispered, nodding. "But Molly's like a second mother to me and… the Weasley's basically took me in. Well, _you_ more than anyone knows what it's like to be included in their family. Not to mention that I'd loved Ron for so long but…"

"But you're not the same person anymore," he finished for her.

"Yes," she breathed out, relieved that someone finally comprehended her.

"Don't think about it too much, Hermione. You'll just keep torturing yourself," he told her sagely.

Their food arrived and they both tucked into their respective dishes.

"Ron told me he saw you."

"Of course he did," she grumbled, taking a bite of her sandwich.

"With… Malfoy."

Hermione sighed wearily and put her food down.

"Did Ronald also indulge in how he made a complete arse of himself?" she inquired archly.

"No, but I reckoned so because he reeked of alcohol. He was missing half an eyebrow… probably splinched himself."

"Serves him right, the fool," she mumbled, taking a drink of water.

"_Malfoy_, Hermione?" Harry asked her quietly. "Really?"

She heaved a sigh and was about to answer when a head of platinum hair caught her attention. Hermione straightened her posture and saw Draco sitting regally in a chair, picking at his food and looking bored out of his mind.

_Is he…?_

But she glanced at the person sitting next to him and felt her heart sink a little.

_Pansy Parkinson. What's he doing here with her?_

"Hermione?"

She snapped her eyes back to Harry and forced a chuckle.

"He's changed, Harry," she answered him simply.

He frowned and gave her an incredulous look.

"Hermione—"

"Didn't you just say yourself that _I'm_ not the same person anymore? Why can't it apply to him as well?" she demanded hotly.

"Because he's _Malfoy_, Hermione. Have you forgotten all the insults he tossed your way back in Hogwarts?" he asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

"I have not, Harry. But what good is it reminding someone of their past after they've turned a new leaf? Besides, I _worked_ with him... or did that tidbit slip your overworked mind?" she bristled.

Harry looked comically shocked at her outburst and Hermione almost laughed out loud but managed to rein it in.

"Well, now that you mention it… perhaps you're right, Hermione. You're the best judge of character I know and if you say he's changed... then maybe he has. Just… be careful, alright? Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin."

Hermione finally rolled her eyes but gave him a smile.

"Yes, oh Chosen One," she drawled.

He scowled at her before bursting into loud laughter.

"Already rubbing off on you, isn't he?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows as a dirty thought crossed her mind. Harry seemed to recognize the look on her face because his face turned a fiery scarlet.

"Erm…"

"No, I _absolutely_ don't want to know," he said, flapping his hands about.

Hermione laughed and glanced at Draco, blushing magenta when she caught his ashen eyes watching her. A corner of his lips curled up infinitesimally and Hermione felt her face grow even hotter.

Curious as ever, Harry turned to see the cause of his best friend's abrupt muteness and smiled wryly when he spotted Draco. There was a tense moment when Draco turned to look at Harry and then nodded at him; Harry nodded back promptly.

Hermione heaved an inward sigh of relief.

_Well, that's that._

However, Pansy seemed to notice that Draco wasn't paying attention to her and snapped her fingers in his face, a frown gracing hers. He turned to her, batting her hand away as he scowled at her. Hermione smirked, pleased that Draco took no attitude from anybody. She watched him shrug elegantly and Pansy squinted her eyes and looked around until she caught Hermione staring at her. She screwed her face up before giving Hermione a look so sour it brought back memories of Hogwarts. Hermione, in turn, gave Pansy a dazzling smile before winking at Draco and turning back to Harry.

"What was that?" Harry gaped, hand frozen over her plate as he clearly tried to steal one of her chips.

"Giving a pug a taste of her own medicine."

Harry burst out laughing, snatching a couple before eating the last of his salad.

"You know… I'm kind of glad you're seeing Malfoy," he told her pensively, calming down.

_Did Harry Potter just say he's glad I'm dating Draco Malfoy?_

"Why's that?"

"Someone's gotta give you a backbone."

Hermione rolled her eyes yet again but smiled triumphantly.

"I'm learning from the best," she shrugged lazily.

Harry stared at her and then snickered.

"Just… don't change too much, Hermione," he told her seriously.

Hermione sobered up and nodded, giving her best friend a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Harry. You have no idea how much it means that one of my best friends is accepting of this," she admitted, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders.

He smiled at her before taking her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Thank _you_, Hermione. We should do lunch again soon."

"I'd love that. I really missed you, Harry."

"Missed you too… _Mione_," he grinned impishly.

She groaned and snatched her hand from his.

"Please don't call me that. I've hated it ever since Ron thought of it," she huffed, eyeing him grumpily.

"So I was told," he snorted, running a hand through his already tousled hair. "Anyway… I better go. It was nice catching up."

"Have a great day, Harry. Send Ginny my love."

She held back a chuckle, recalling Draco's memo and gave Harry a toothy smile instead.

"I will. You look pretty," he told her, noticing her appearance belatedly.

Hermione blushed but gave her best friend a look.

"I see Ginny's trained you well," she teased.

Harry blushed and shrugged, waving goodbye at her. She lifted her hand and waved back, watching his back disappear into the crowd.

_Who would have thought that Harry would approve of Draco? I honestly thought he was going to be opposed to it, like Ron. Well, maybe not as adamantly as Ron. It's nice that at least **one** of my best friend isn't questioning my decisions. Maybe someday Draco and I could go out on a double date with Harry and Ginny._

She peeked at Draco from the corner of her eye and saw his usual mask of impassivity as he listened (or pretended to, anyway) to Pansy.

_How does he do it? Must be Occlumensy at its best. Though I wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Malfoy advised Draco to conceal his feelings because feelings are for the weak-minded. _

The waitress came by and flashed a smile at Hermione, who nodded and smiled in return. She finally stood up and glanced wistfully at Draco one more time before meandering back to the Ministry.

_I haven't really seen much of Draco ever since Paris… although there's no doubt in my mind that Parkinson's keeping him busy on purpose. I can't stop thinking about that kiss. Seems like some of the rumors about Draco's "talents" were true._

Hermione blushed as she strolled through the Ministry's atrium, heading for the lift.

_I'm curious about asking him but I'm wary all the same. Not that I'd get jealous. For one, it's more than pointless and two… okay, nothing comes to mind. I'm just sure I've less experience than he, after all… wait, why am I even thinking of this? We've only been out on two dates and…_

Hermione shook herself as the lift stopped in her department. She walked briskly to her office, wanting nothing more to shut herself up and get back to her paperwork. Once there, she sat down and stared around her office and let her eyes linger, imagining the doorway in her old office that led to Draco's own.

"I miss him."

She chuckled softly and got herself to work, her mind often venturing to thoughts of Draco Malfoy.

At the end of the workday, she was visited by the man himself.

He towered over her, his arms crossed over his chest and watched Hermione patiently. She finally looked up and jumped in her seat, clutching at her chest as he smirked.

"You startled me," she eyed him reproachfully.

His smirk just grew bigger.

"Almost done, Granger? Or are you going to continue to waste away on that?" he asked in a bored tone, glancing down at the papers on her desk.

She glared at him but put them away all the same.

"I suppose it's something I can finish tomorrow," she admitted grudgingly.

"Good. Let's go," he told her, nodding for her to stand up.

"Where are we going?" she asked him hesitantly.

"Why don't you come along and find out?" he asked, breaking into a slow smile.

Hermione swallowed thickly and nodded, standing up to gather her things. She tucked her wand into the inside of her robes and grasped her bag tightly and turned to Draco, who held his arm out to her with a charming smile. She tucked her arm into his, grasping his warm and toned bicep and felt a small thrill go through her body.

To her surprise (and delight), he Apparated them to Hermione's favorite Chinese restaurant just off Diagon Alley.

She turned to him with a smile but asked, "What's the special occasion?"

"I wanted to spend some time with you before our next date," he shrugged but she could spy a smile on his face, even if he wasn't looking at her.

Hermione felt speechless but kept staring at Draco's profile. He turned to her and cocked his head, a corner of his lips quirking. She finally closed her mouth shut and looked away, blushing.

"Wouldn't this be considered a date?" she asked, perplexed.

He smiled smugly and cocked his head.

"You know I don't do anything by halves, Granger."

She eyed him warily but ended up smiling, shaking her head at his logic.

"When's our next date?"

"Saturday at seven. We'll convene at my place and leave from there."

She smiled and nodded.

"It's a date," she answered, trying her best to sound unaffected.

"By the way… you look beautiful," Draco whispered in her ear, gently leading her into the restaurant.

Hermione grinned, feeling her happiness burst and flow throughout her body.

Once they settled down and ordered, she felt his eyes on her and looked up at him.

"What is it? Do I have something on my face?" she joked, touching her fingertips lightly to her cheek.

He smirked, his molten gaze roving her face in such a _hungry_ manner that left Hermione feeling slightly lightheaded.

"Just your usual pretty features," he shrugged.

She scoffed but felt her cheeks warm at his flattery. Draco, on the other hand, arched an eyebrow, as though he was daring her to contradict him. She raised her hands in surrender and he flashed her a victorious grin.

"So, I'm guessing Potter didn't have an aneurysm when he found out about us?" he queried, leaning back casually into his chair.

"No, not at all. He seemed a bit wary, at first, and understandably so. But once I told him that I'm very much a grown woman and therefore perfectly capable to make decisions of my own, he seemed to come around," she grinned at him.

Draco stared at her for a couple of seconds before guffawing.

"Only you could put _The Scarred One_ in his place," he smirked, nodding appreciatively.

Hermione gave him a look over the new nickname but Draco continued to smirk, clearly unrepentant.

"Well, I'm just glad he's on board because I've no plans of going anywhere," he told her silkily.

She blushed, thrilled by his words but settled for giving him a coy smile.

"And even if he _hadn't_ approved, that wouldn't have stopped me from continuing to date you. Unless, of course, it caused irreparable damage to your friendship. Selfish as I am, I couldn't have done that to you. I may not understand why, but you love those prats and who am I to question your judgement? You've been with them through thick and thin and it's difficult to find friendship as pure as that nowadays."

Hermione felt her heart swell with affection, knowing that being understanding wasn't quite in Draco's nature but that he tried anyway.

"Thank you, Draco," she smiled, reaching over to brush her fingertips against his knuckles.

He swallowed thickly, eyes flickering to her fingers before meeting her gaze.

"On the contrary, thank _you_," he told her softly, giving her a lopsided smile.

_Oh, sweet butterflies... will you never cease?_

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read! Have a lovely day. :)


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: I suck, I know!

Disclaimer: I continue to own nothing.

* * *

Draco paced around his flat, attempting to ignore the sound of his manic footsteps reverberating back at him. If anything, it only exacerbated his uneasiness but he felt far too jittery to keep still. He smoothed down his midnight blue shirt and spared an anxious glance at his watch.

_It's seven already… why hasn't she arrived yet? Could she have possibly had a change of mind? Why wouldn't she let me know, though? It's not like her to—_

A firm but gentle knock on his door startled him out of his rapidly escalating thoughts. He stopped and took a moment to collect himself before striding confidently to the door. Draco opened it swiftly, smile in place when he caught sight of her.

_Merlin, it feels like this is my first time seeing her._

She wore a body-hugging scarlet dress that fell above her knees. Although it didn't show any overly naughty bits of skin it did flaunt her smooth, tanned shoulders all thanks to the thin straps along her shoulders and then another set of inverted straps that cut across her collarbones. It had see-through panels of red mesh right along the curve of her waist and a slit with an asymmetrical hemline, pointy at one end and squared off at the other. Her feet were clad in the highest heels he's seen her wear yet; thin straps hugged her slim ankles while equally thin strap ran just below her toes; he found it oddly appealing that her toes were bereft of nail polish.

_This woman is going to instill a foot fetish upon me, I swear to Slytherin._

"Draco?"

Her soft voice shook him out of his reverie and he snapped his head up to look at her and felt his face redden, embarrassed to have been caught staring so blatantly at her. She gave him a tentative smile and he returned it, opening the door widely to let her through. She stepped through the doorway and just as she passed, Draco caught a whiff of the most delectable fragrance ever. He closed his eyes and groaned inwardly, shutting the door and composing himself before turning around.

"You look handsome," she smiled, eyes sparkling.

Draco cleared his throat and nodded promptly.

"Thank you," he murmured. "You look very… fetching."

Her full lips curled into a smile and she raised her brow at him.

"Thank you, Draco," she told him softly.

"For a moment there I thought you weren't coming. That you changed your mind last minute," he blurted out, sticking his hands into his pockets and stalking to his counter as he cursed his loose tongue.

"I would never," she told him, honesty radiating from her voice.

"Thank you," he told her, relieved. "I got our Portkey set to 7:05. Here… 30 more seconds."

"Portkey? Draco—"

The Portkey turned a bright blue and Draco shot Hermione an urgent look, pressing a finger against it. The last thing he saw was Hermione hastily touching her finger to the Portkey as well; suddenly Draco felt as though he was being jerked by his belly button.

Draco loved to fly and Apparating wasn't a problem for him, so while using a Portkey felt uncomfortable it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to be whimpering.

_Oh, shite. That's right… she's not a fan of this. How daft could you be, Malfoy? Honestly._

They finally landed with a hard thump and Draco reached out to hold her, pressing her firmly against his chest.

"It's alright, Hermione," he murmured soothingly into her ear.

She was trembling from head to foot, making Draco feel like an arse for scaring her.

"I'm sorry. Maybe I should have asked you—"

"No, no. It's okay. I'm fine," she warbled, taking a deep breath.

Seconds later, she stopped shaking in his arms and stepped away. Reluctantly, he let her but kept his hands attached upon her shoulders.

_Her skin feels like polished marble and it's _**_so _**_bloody __soft and warm…_

"Are you sure?"

She blinked and nodded, giving Draco a brave little smile.

"Gryffindor through and through," he teased, grabbing her hand and tucking it into the crook of his arm.

Hermione laughed softly and bumped her shoulder playfully against his, sending a frisson of electricity throughout his body. She came to an abrupt stop, jerking Draco back.

"What's wrong?" he queried, turning to her worriedly.

"Draco… where are we? Is this…?" she turned to him, her brown eyes wide with disbelief.

"Italy? Yes. To be more specific, we're in—"

"_Italy?!_" she interrupted, mouth agape.

He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling smugly at her.

"_Si, bella_," he murmured into her ear.

Draco felt her shudder and suppressed the urge to himself.

"Is there a language you don't speak?" she teased, looking at him from under her eyelashes.

Draco cocked his head, pretending to think about it which made her laugh. Pleasure bloomed in his chest, warming him all over.

"Alright, alright… no need to stroke your ego," she chuckled, gently squeezing his arm.

"Oh, you think so? But it could be quite fun," he whispered just above her ear.

She shivered once more and Draco grit his teeth, screwing his eyes tightly.

_Calm yourself, Draco. You're in public._

He snapped his eyes open and took in a swift breath of air.

"So… where are we, exactly?"

"Wizarding Rome."

"Draco!"

"Do calm down, Granger. We have a reservation. Come along," he told her easily, guiding her carefully through the streets.

_Those heels of hers could easily get caught between the cobblestone and the task to pry it loose would, naturally, fall upon me. I'd have to grasp her slim ankle – I bet my fingers would easily overlap each other– __and…_

"Have you ever been here?" he asked conversationally, needing to get his mind off touching her.

"Never. I'd always wanted to, though. I just felt like I was busy with something or other," she shrugged, looking up at him. "As much as I love Paris, I think I might love Italy's culture and food even more."

"Maybe we could come back another time so you can sightsee," he suggested, easing her through the crowd.

"I'd… I… you don't have to do that," she told him quietly.

He frowned and looked down at her.

"Don't be ridiculous. I know I don't _have_ to. But I'd _like_ to," he shrugged, looking away once more.

He felt her watching him but refrained from looking back lest he get caught in her gaze and gave a slight smile when he spotted the restaurant.

"We're almost there," he told her, changing the topic.

_The last thing I need is for her to fight me on something I'd love to do for her. Stubborn witch; she's Gryffindor to the core._

He glanced at his watch and sighed inwardly with relief, having arrived just in the nick of time. Draco sauntered up to the hostess and gave her brief smile before telling her that he had a reservation for two under 'Malfoy' in flawless Italian. He saw the girl give him an admiring look but Draco turned to the beautiful woman on his arm instead, turning to flash a smile at her. To his surprise and immense curiosity, he watched as Hermione clenched her jaw tightly as if she were barely able to refrain from giving the hostess a verbal lashing.

_Interesting_, he thought as he smirked inwardly.

The voice of the hostess broke his train of thought and told him that their table was ready, seeming to Summon a waiter from thin air. Like their Parisian waiter, he looked happy to see them and gave them a polite nod as he bid them to follow him.

They were lead to a cozy table (which was covered in a silk tablecloth) set for two; there was a vibrant red rose on the table as candles hovered in the air, casting a romantic glow upon the table. An enchanted mosaic window hung on the wall beside the table, depicting a night sky. Hermione seemed captivated by the moon, observing it change phases in rapt attention.

Recalling the gaffe from their first date, Draco hastened to pull out Hermione's chair and she smiled at him, sitting down gracefully. He finally took a seat across from her to see her brushing her fingertip against the velvety petals of the rose tenderly.

"I take it you've been here before?" she questioned nonchalantly, glancing down at the menu that appeared before her.

"Yes."

"Hmm."

"Jealous, Granger?" he asked silkily, leaning forward to catch her eye.

Her cheeks may have turned a rosy hue but she rolled her eyes at him.

"You wish, Malfoy," she snorted softly.

"Oh?" he smirked, resting his jaw against his knuckles.

She straightened her posture and set her menu down slowly. Draco noticed the glint in her warm eyes belatedly.

"You're here with _me_ for a reason. You've been going out with _me_ for the very same same reason. I don't know about you, but I can put two and two together," she told him confidently, a saucy smile growing on her lips. "They don't call me 'Brightest Witch of her Age' for no reason."

Draco grinned toothily and couldn't help but chuckle.

_Confidence, I like that in a woman and she has it in spades. Merlin, the witch knows how to get my blood roaring._

"Speaking of which…" she trailed off, glancing around uneasily.

"What is it?" Draco asked, concerned at her sudden wariness.

"Why do you have money?"

Draco blinked and stared at her face, perplexed by the abruptness of her question.

"Erm… excuse me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she blushed prettily. "I just realized how rude that sounded. I meant to say that I'd thought that the Ministry had frozen the Malfoy bank accounts."

"No, they never froze them. They were, however, put through a probation period of a year where they were watched to see if any… dodgy expenditures were made. The Malfoy name may not be worth much but you can bet that we're still obscenely rich," he grinned, lacing his fingers together.

"And humble," she smirked before looking down at her menu once more.

His heart fluttered at the sight of _his_ smirk on her gorgeous face.

_Looks like Gryffindors just might be corruptible. How fun._

Their waiter arrived but Draco noticed it wasn't the same one who led them to their table. He also noticed that he couldn't take his eyes off Hermione.

_Can't say I blame him, she does look extremely enticing. Red is most definitely her color._

"Signore, bella donna," he smiled, nodding his head respectfully at the pair.

"Buona sera," she told him, flashing him a bright smile.

A jolt of irritation struck Draco and he resisted the urge to scowl at their waiter.

_She's definitely too friendly for her own good._

Draco ordered them his favorite bottle of Italian wine, probably a little more snappishly than he would have liked but that got rid of their waiter. He turned to Hermione, whose eyebrows were high on her forehead. Still, she remained quiet and Draco appreciated that she didn't reprimand him.

"So what would you recommend?"

"Everything."

"What? Are you serious? You've tried everything on the menu?" she gasped, eyes as wide as galleons.

"And off the menu," he told her smugly.

"Wow," she whispered, looking down at the table.

"What is it?"

"I…" she trailed off, looking slightly dazed."I grew up relatively well off since my parents were both dentists and owned their own successful pratice. After the Second War Harry, Ron and I received a _very_ handsome sum of galleons from the Ministry. Working for these past five years has definitely added to that amount and I thought I had more than I could ever know what to do with it. But to think of all the gold holed up in your vault—"

"_Vaults_," he corrected her helpfully.

"—I just can't imagine what that's like. Having the world, quite literally, at my disposal. No wonder you were such a snob!" she laughed, shaking her head.

He watched her peculiarly, the barb stinging him a little more than it ordinarily would have.

"It's never been all fun and games, Granger," he told her a bit stiffly. "You think most of the people that hung around me did so because they _liked_ me? No! They never saw Draco Malfoy, the person. Rather, they saw Draco Malfoy the stepping stone to wealth and notoriety."

"I like you," she told Draco quietly, nibbling on her lower lip.

He felt himself relax and gave her a tiny smile in return.

"That took ages though, didn't it?"

She chuckled and smoothed her hair back nervously. He barely noticed that it was tucked back into a knot with strands framing her face.

"It was worth it, I think."

Her words warmed him greatly and Draco's lips curved into a genuine smile.

"You really ought to smile more, you know," she told him with a fiery look in her eyes. "You look even more attractive when you do."

Draco blushed and looked away, thankful for the dim lighting as he took a drink of the sparkling water. He was saved by the damn waiter, who opened their bottle of wine with an over the top flourish.

_Undoubtedly hoping to impress Hermione_, he thought sulkily.

He served them and gave Hermione a smile before asking if they were ready to order.

"You know what you want?" he asked her a little too brusquely.

She nodded, eyes narrowed and Draco motioned for her to speak which made her glare at him.

"Scallop pasta for me, please," she smiled sweetly up at the waiter.

He beamed at her and turned to Draco, who barked out his order. The waiter asked them if there was anything else before disappearing.

"Draco."

He turned to look at her with his trademark mask of impassivity and cocked his head slightly.

"Thank you for bringing me here," she told him softly. "It really is lovely and… I'd be delighted to come back with you."

Draco wasn't sure what he was expecting her to say, maybe to scold him. But that… it caught him off guard and he couldn't help but stare at her. Her words seemed to fill all the empty holes in his heart and he couldn't help but feel his affection for her expand.

"Good. Not that you had much choice in the matter," he added, hoping he sounded more like his normal self.

She laughed and bit her lip and he watched, fascinated by the way her skin glowed under the candlelight and how it shone off her dark, lustrous hair.

"Granger… _Hermione_."

Her laughter ceased and she watched him attentively.

"Thank you for being my friend. For giving me a chance, really."

His statement caused her to raise her eyebrows, a skeptical look coming into her eyes.

"Truthfully, I want much more than mere friendship but it has to start somewhere, right?" he asked softly. "I'm just… thankful that you see past my name or money, or even what I could do for you. It's… a breath of fresh air and I cannot begin to tell you just _how_ much I appreciate it."

Her rosebud lips parted slightly and she watched him silently.

_Did I say something wrong? Maybe she only wants to be my friend, after all. But that kiss…_

To his everlasting surprise, she rose from her seat and crossed to his side before leaning down to press her lips against his. He froze for a second and felt her fingers caress his jaw tenderly. Draco must have remained still for too long because she began to pull away but that caused him to snap out of it; he snaked his arms around her and pulled her close, crushing his lips against her supple ones. She responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck before toppling into his lap.

Draco had never been one for modesty, so he didn't mind having her sitting on his lap and didn't care if people watched them snog. He knew that they were both famous (she more than him and for better things) but doubted they'd get recognized in another country. The dimness in the restaurant also helped them keep their identities anonymous.

She threaded her fingers through his hair which sent a delicious shiver through his body. The warmth radiating from her body was the sweetest thing he'd ever felt and he wrapped his arms more securely around her. He nibbled the same spot she'd bitten earlier, eliciting a soft gasp from her. Draco didn't hesitate to run the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips and he tasted a hint of the wine they'd been drinking. He groaned as she nipped his lip and felt strangely dizzy, screwing his eyes tightly to make it go away.

_No, I don't want this to stop. Who knows when it would happen again?_

Draco almost jumped out of his skin when he felt the tip of her velvety tongue brush gently against his, groaning a bit louder. That seemed to snap Hermione back to her senses and she pulled her lips away but pressed her forehead against his. They panted softly and he felt her sweet breath fan against his lips. He grew aware of how perfectly her body molded against his own and it thrilled him all the way down to his toes; he loved how intimate it felt, having her so close to him and he could swear he could almost feel her erratic heartbeat against his chest.

"Draco," she murmured, nuzzling her nose against his.

His heart sped up at the huskiness of her voice and fought the urge to snog her so thoroughly she'd forget her name.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I also want to be with you. I want more than friendship too," she confessed, pulling her face away and looked at him.

Draco blinked and stared at her beautiful flushed face before meeting her intense gaze once again.

"Be mine."

The words slipped out before he could stop or even control them.

She looked shocked for a few seconds before breaking out into a radiant smile.

"Yes," she told him simply.

Draco felt like his heart could burst from the joy she gave him.

"You know what they say, third date's the charm," he joked, squeezing her.

She laughed softly and Draco watched her face grow even redder.

To his mild annoyance, the waiter arrived with their food. Although his eyes widened for a few seconds, his face didn't belie any expression other than one of pleasantness.

_That's right you sod, she's with me. She's mine now._

He set her plate where she'd sat (before she'd made herself at home on Draco's lap, that is) and Draco's before him and disappeared.

"Smells delicious," she said dreamily, attempting to rise to her feet.

"No, no … how about you eat whilst sitting on my lap? I can even feed you if you'd like," Draco whispered softly into her ear, relishing her shiver.

She sputtered and Draco delighted in her reaction, giving her an affectionate squeeze before removing his arms from her halfheartedly. He did, however, press a quick kiss against her shoulder before she stood and had the strongest urge to give her cute bum a playful swat but he wasn't sure how she'd take that, so he didn't.

Hermione sat across from him, still red faced and gave him a shy smile before tucking into her dinner. She closed her eyes and moaned softly, sending a shiver down Draco's spine.

"If that's how you feel about dinner then just you wait until dessert," Draco smirked, winking at her.

"Oh, yeah? The dessert from Paris is going to be difficult to beat, sir. I hope you know what you're doing," she retorted cheekily, giving him an impish grin.

Draco's heart could only flutter as he watched her, feeling completely awed by the witch sitting before him. She raised her eyebrows at him and he flushed before busying himself with his meal.

* * *

Thanks for your continued support! Have a wonderful week. :)


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: Just letting everyone know there's a bit of a sensual scene near the end of the chapter. Nothing overly explicit, though.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own anything. Womp womp.

* * *

Hermione eyed the letter in her hands apprehensively, unsure about what it could contain.

_Here goes nothing._

She opened it with trembling fingers and took a steadying breath to brace herself.

_Hermione,_

_Harry told me about the lunch you two had. I was training with the Harpies, otherwise I would have loved to join the two of you. I feel like we haven't seen each other since… well, since you last went to The Burrow. How about we get together for drinks on Friday? We could even turn it into a girl's night and invite Luna! I reckon you haven't seen her in ages either. What d'you think? Write back and let me know._

_Much love,_

_Ginny_

Hermione released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and stared at the loopy handwriting, knowing she wouldn't be able to turn the feisty redhead's offer down.

"Looks like I'll be having a girl's night out," she murmured with a fond smile.

Friday night

Hermione looked down at herself and grinned. She didn't consider herself to be a vain woman, but she could always acknowledge when she looked good.

_And right now... I'm looking delectable, as Draco might say._

She wore a skintight black dress with a high neckline and with no back. The material was both soft and a bit shiny, highlighting her curves and exposing the dimples at the base of her spine. The hemline fell a little below her knees and Hermione slipped on her sexiest heels; they had a wickedly thin heel and cutouts with tiny golden tassels that jingled around her ankles. She pulled her curls into a sleek ponytail at the crown of her head and felt the ends of it brush against her shoulder blades. She kept her makeup minimal but swiped on her favorite red lipstick that never failed to make her feel like a femme fatale.

"I think Ginny'll be happy," she chuckled, watching her reflection favorably.

Glancing at the clock, she grabbed her wand and her clutch. Taking a deep breath, she Apparated to The Dragon's Lair, the hottest bar-cum-club in Diagon Alley. She caught a sight of her reflection and smiled, entering the establishment.

She spotted Ginny right away, her flame hair making it easy to pick her out in a crowd. Hermione hastened to her friend, catching sight of Luna's platinum locks next. Hermione approached them and saw Ginny give her a second look when she realized it was none other than Hermione.

"Hermione! You look… amazing!" Ginny shouted, jumping to her feet to hug her.

Hermione laughed and gave Luna a hug, who complimented her on her sparkling earrings.

"Thank you. I'd never worn this dress so I decided to take it out for a night on the town," she joked, ordering a drink.

Ginny snorted while Luna smiled serenely, her pale blue eyes observing her dreamily.

"How are you both?" Hermione queried, taking a sip of her Hippogriff martini.

"Busy with the Harpies," Ginny pouted, staring at her drink forlornly. "I hardly see Harry nowadays."

"Aw, Gin," Hermione pouted, patting her friend's shoulder.

"I've been dating Rolf Scamander," Luna told them airily.

"What?! The heir of the Scamander fortune?" Ginny gasped, staring at Luna with wide brown eyes.

A crease formed between Luna's pale eyebrows.

"There's more to Rolf than his money or name," she said, sounding a tad less dreamy than usual.

Hermione smiled, relieved that someone else shared her sentiment.

"Er, no… that's not what I meant," Ginny coughed, bright red patches appearing on her tanned freckled face. "Sorry Luna."

"It's quite alright, Ginny. You're certainly not the first or last to think that," Luna told her, sounding less defensive.

"What about you, Hermione?" Ginny asked quickly, hoping for a change of topic. "I've been hearing some interesting rumors through the grapevine."

Hermione blushed and took a long sip of her drink to prolong answering. Ginny raised her eyebrows expectantly, smirking knowingly.

"Well, if you've heard things from the _Pottervine_ then I'm sure you don't need _me_ to tell you anything," Hermione smiled innocently.

She merely rolled her eyes and took a drink from her glass.

"I'd like to hear it from _you_," she said pointedly.

Hermione sighed loudly and pursed her lips in mock annoyance.

"I may or may not be dating Draco Malfoy."

Ginny grinned widely and squealed.

"I knew it! Harry had told me about the owl—"

"_Owl?_ What owl?" Hermione frowned, looking at her curiously.

Ginny eyes widened and she cleared her throat, looking away.

"Hermione, I'm so happy for you. It's good that you gave him a chance and got to see his true inner self," Luna nodded approvingly.

Hermione gave Ginny one last suspicious look before turning to Luna and beamed at her.

"He's so much easier to get along with now, Luna! I mean, he's still a little bit vain and sarcastic but we have the most amazing conversations. There are times when I want to snog him breathless after a particularly stimulating chat," she breathed, feeling her heart flutter in her chest.

"Oh… that's right. He'd always been ranked after you you in school," Ginny remembered, nodding her head.

"Yes! I just never saw it because we couldn't stand each other," Hermione giggled, taking a long sip of her martini.

"You look happy, Hermione. You deserve it," Ginny told her quietly.

Hermione felt guilt begin to gnaw at her.

"Ginny, your brother—"

"Was the biggest prat. He may be my brother but that doesn't stop him from being a raging idiot, Hermione. I may love him but while I thought that while the two of you were cute, I knew it wasn't going to last forever," she shrugged apologetically. "Besides, you're much too different from each other that it was only going to affect you in the long run."

Hermione felt speechless and stared at the youngest Weasley's eyes, which reminded her so much of Molly's.

"You're right," she whispered, nodding her head. "Our differences would have been the demise of our relationship."

Ginny patted her shoulder sympathetically and offered her a smile.

"But you and Malfoy… odd as the pairing seems, I can see it working. You're so self-deprecating and he's so… not. Like you said, the two of you can _easily_ match wits and love reading, you nerds," she smirked. "But really… to your happiness."

Ginny then raised her glass and Hermione clinked hers against it before downing the last of her martini.

The music had a pounding beat that made Hermione want to dance and before she knew it, she was on her sixth cocktail and grinding her bum against Ginny's. Luna had left not long ago, stating that the Stubbliwubblies were going to come looking for her soon if she didn't leave; so off she went.

Hermione ordered a pair of Odgen's shots for herself and Ginny, downing them and setting the glasses loudly on the bar. Ginny cackled and writhed her lean body to the beat of the music.

"So, have you been on many dates with him?" she yelled into Hermione's ear.

"Just three! The first was a disaster because Ronald interrupted—"

"S'right! I remember when he told us, that prat!" Ginny shouted indignantly on Hermione's behalf.

"But then our second and third dates happened in Paris and Rome!"

"What?" Ginny's eyes widened. "Are you _serious_?"

"Yup, I couldn't believe it either!"

"Is he a good snogger?" she leered at Hermione.

"Oh, yes," she sighed dreamily. "His lips are so soft and warm and meticulous…"

"Meticu— _what?_" she frowned in confusion and staggered closer to Hermione.

"He just knows how to use that mouth of his," Hermione giggled, biting her lip.

Ginny pulled away and smirked at Hermione.

"Oh, yeah?" she waggled her eyebrows suggestively. "Have you two…?"

"No!" Hermione shouted, blushing furiously. "Although I can imagine that it'd be… fantastical."

Ginny looked hazy-eyed for a second before nodding fervently.

"If he's as good on his feet as he is on a broom, then I don't think you'll have a problem," Ginny winked brazenly.

"Gin!"

"What? It's the truth. Malfoy had always been a great Quidditch player. Too bad he always to overshadowed by Harry."

_That could be another reason why Draco hated Harry._

"Probably," Ginny nodded, ordering a Were-tini.

_Oh, shit… must have said that out loud._

"So what's keeping you from jumping into bed with him?"

Hermione blushed and ordered a Ghastly Ghoullini.

"I just… I don't want him to think that I'm easy," she shrugged. "I respect myself and I want him to respect me too. Maybe I'm also scared that my sexual prowess isn't as impressive as his."

"That's right! They called him the _Slytherin Sex God_," Ginny tittered.

"Oh, Merlin… I'd forgotten about that ridiculous nickname!" Hermione groaned, closing her eyes. "I'd only remembered the _Slytherin Prince_ one."

"Both quite fitting, I daresay. He always was the most handsome but cruel boy of your year. Excluding Harry, of course," she added loyally, bopping to the music.

Hermione nodded thoughtlessly.

"Well, you _are_ a woman so you'll know what to do when the time comes," Ginny winked wolfishly.

Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled thankfully at her friend.

"It may be time to go home. I'll probably have a wicked hangover tomorrow as it is," Hermione said, smacking her lips together.

"Yeah, Harry'll probably be worried… if he's not snoring away by now," her redheaded friend rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Gin! I'm so glad you don't hate me!" Hermione cried abruptly, throwing her arms around her and giving her a hearty squeeze.

"Oof!"

"I'd missed you so much but I was worried to show my face," Hermione sniffled, feeling the effect of the alcohol get to her. "I didn't want you to hate me because I basically left your dimwitted brother at the altar!"

"'ermione, you're choking me!" Ginny gasped, flailing her arms.

"Sorry, Gin, sorry!"

"S'okay, Hermione. I couldn't hate you, especially when I knew that being by Ron's side would mean your unhappiness and I couldn't let you do that to yourself. I love you and value you too much to have you settle for something. Especially when you deserve much more because you, yourself, are _so bloody special_," Ginny sniffled, dabbing at her eyes.

"Oh, Gin! That means so much to me!"

After paying their respective tabs and sharing drunken hugs, Ginny went on her way. Hermione stepped outside and almost bowled over.

"Oh, sweet Circe… if I Apparate home I'll probably end up getting splinched. What can I do?" she panicked, sitting down on a lone bench.

_What if… what if I send a Patronus to Draco? There's no guarantee that he's even awake and staying here in Diagon Alley is most definitely not an option. Why am I even opposed to having him help me? I doubt he'd mind. I guess I'm just not used to asking for help, is all._

Hermione groaned and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She almost regretted opening them because she felt the earth shift under her feet.

"Shite!" she groaned, shutting her eyes tightly again.

That made up her mind for her; she sent a Patronus to Draco and prayed that he was awake. It could have been seconds, minutes or hours later but Hermione heard the telltale pop of Apparition.

"Good gods, Hermione… are you okay?" she heard a male voice in the distance.

She felt a pair of warm and strong hands sit her upright – she must have fallen over – and her head lolled to the side.

"Hermione?" the voice whispered anxiously.

_Why does he sound so worried? It's okay, I'm fine._

But she found she couldn't verbalize those thoughts.

The soft hands shook her slightly and her head lolled to the other side. For some reason, she began to giggle, which caused the man to utter a string of colorful swear words that only caused her to giggle more. The man sighed, obviously trying to remain as patient as possible. Suddenly the cold bench disappeared from Hermione's bum and she felt herself get draped over something sturdy and warm. She heard the faint _pop_ and knew they were Apparating somewhere but for the life of her, Hermione didn't have it in her to open her eyes and see where; she didn't want to grow sick and throw up all over her savior.

She mumbled against material, feeling the blood rush to her head and belatedly realized that she'd draped over somebody's shoulder. She heard the man's feet come in contact with ground once more and sighed with relief; Apparating while drunk was even more uncomfortable than when not.

Hermione heard a door open and then close behind her before being set down on sheets that felt familiar against her skin. She heard the man grumble in the distance as he ransacked through somewhere or other and listened to his footsteps approach once more.

"Hermione, listen to me," he spoke in a clear voice. "I'm going to tilt your head back and pour this Sobering Draught in your mouth, so make sure to swallow every last drop. You're pissed out of your mind and would have definitely splinched yourself had you not sent me your Patronus. The haze you're in will disappear and you'll be clear-headed again. Now, open wide…"

She did as he ordered, if only because his voice sounded soothing if mildly irritated. Hermione struggled to swallow the tasteless potion, choking slightly. She felt him pat her back and the coughing ceased. Hermione swallowed the last of the potion and once more started to regain consciousness, groaning.

She opened her eyes slowly and saw Draco's own staring down at her with thinly veiled panic.

"Hermione?"

"Draco," she sighed happily, giving him a lazy smile.

His eyes fluttered with relief but then he snapped his eyes to her face again and scowled.

"You scared the fu—" he paused and collected himself. "You scared me, Hermione. How much did you drink? Why were you sleeping on a bloody bench on your own?"

"I drank quite a bit," she winced, counting the drinks in her head. "Now that I think about it, I must've had about fifteen drinks in total."

Draco's eyes nearly bulged out of his head and Hermione would have giggled but knew he wouldn't see the humor.

"_Fifteen _drinks? Why?" he demanded, letting go of her shoulders and crossing his arms.

"About half of those were free. I think," she said, tilting her head to the side as though it would help her remember.

His mouth fell open and she could have sworn his eye twitched.

"And what, pray tell, did you do in order to receive those sainted free drinks?" he queried through gritted teeth.

"Draco, relax! War Heroine, remember?" she pointed to herself, rolling her eyes.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously before looking down at her outfit, causing him to gape at her once more.

"With that dress?" he growled.

She stood up quickly but stumbled, the blood rushing too quickly to her head. Draco wrapped his arms around her automatically and held her tightly against him.

"Do you like it?" she asked him innocently, batting her eyelashes at him.

He looked gobsmacked since Hermione wasn't an overtly flirtatious girl.

"I… you… it looks…" he sputtered, speechless for once in his life.

Hermione smiled triumphantly which snapped him out of his stutter.

"Wasn't Potter née Weasley with you?" he demanded, changing topic.

"She was but she left before me."

"Why the _hell_ did she leave you alone?"

Hermione raised herself on her tiptoes and tilted her head slightly, stopping when her lips barely grazed against his.

"Did you notice I'm not wearing any knickers?" she whispered against them, hoping to distract him.

She heard him gulp, his grip on her tightening instantly.

"Hermione…" he whispered, lips brushing back against hers.

_Oh, those blessed butterflies!_

She smiled, waiting for him to crash his lips against hers but became sorely disappointed when nothing of the sort happened. Instead, he let go of her and took a step back, eyeing her warily. She frowned at the distance between them and took notice of Draco's state of dress. He wore black silk pajamas, trainers and a trench coat. Hermione guessed he wore the matching top to the pajama bottoms underneath his coat, he was much too fussy to wear mismatched pyjamas. His hair looked like he'd just rolled out of bed and Hermione decided it looked sexy on him. He looked tired, on edge and something else that she couldn't quite name but it sent shivers all through her body.

_Doesn't he want me? I thought all men thought about was sex! Considering his old Slytherin nickname… oh, Merlin. Is he rejecting me? Is that what it is?_

She swallowed back the rebuff and looked down at her bare, unpolished toes.

"Well, thank you Draco. I appreciate you doing all this for me. I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you at this hour," she muttered, turning to look for her wand and clutch.

"You're welcome," he answered in a cautious tone.

She forced her lips into a semblance of a smile without meeting his eyes and grabbed her wand, not caring about her clutch because she needed to make her exit as rapidly as possible lest she expired of shame. Straightening, she finally made eye contact and saw Draco looking utterly bewildered.

_That's a first._

"Well… goodnight," she nodded, breaking eye contact and turning on her heel.

In her current state, Hermione's uncoordinated self made an appearance and thus stumbled. But Draco quickly reached out to steady her, pressing her back to his front. Hermione couldn't be sure but she could have sworn that she could feel his heart thumping wildly against her shoulder blade.

_Or maybe that's just my heart._

"You okay?" he whispered, frozen.

She swallowed noisily and nodded.

"Yes," she replied, turning her face to the side.

She felt his warm breath fan against her cheek and shivered. Draco held onto her even tighter and Hermione felt his heart accelerate further.

_Gods, I hope it doesn't try to leap from his chest! …honestly, Hermione, what a ridiculous thought._

Slowly, his fingers relaxed and he slid his hands down her arms, making her feel as though they left behind a red-hot trail on her skin. Draco placed his hands on her waist and spun her swiftly so they could see each other bathed in moonlight (his curtains were wide open).

The look in his eyes made Hermione's heart stutter, sending jolts of electricity all over her. His gaze was dark and heated and never had anybody ever looked at her like that.

_Desire. That's what it was that I couldn't decipher. But now, it's clear as day. I wonder if I look like that too._

"Hermione," he whispered softly, like a caress.

"Yes, Draco?"

"You look bloody sexy," he breathed raggedly against her ear. "Are you really not wearing knickers?"

"I'm not," she swallowed thickly, quivering with anticipation.

She heard his sharp intake of breath and wondered what he would do next.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Hermione. I want you."

"I—"

"Shhh… don't. Even if you do, I don't want to know because it would make it _so_ outrageously easy for me to take you right here, right now. You may not be pissed out of your brilliant mind anymore but you're not quite balanced which tells me that you aren't quite sober yet. I don't want you unless you're one hundred percent sure of what you're doing. I respect you, Hermione. And because I respect you, I'm going to kiss you chastely and take you home because I wouldn't quite trust myself, or _you_ for that matter, to let you stay the night," he told her in a husky voice.

It sent delicious shivers all over her body, especially to her nether regions and she had to press her knees together to keep them from buckling.

"At least kiss me goodnight before you escort me home, Draco," she whispered breathily.

She _felt_ his groan rumble in his chest but complied, pulling her close and kissing her passionately, tangling his fingers in her ponytail. Hermione pressed herself closer to him, digging her fingers into his shoulders and kissing back fiercely, causing him to groan loudly. He slid his hands slowly down her back and she shivered, making Draco to shiver as well; he splayed one hand on her back and the other on the lower part, pinky brushing against the base of her spine. She bit his lip and then brushed her tongue to soothe the spot. His body felt so temptingly hot and she wanted to burn right along with him, caught in his embrace forever. He nipped at her lip and in turn, Hermione took Draco's lower one and gently sucked on it. Draco froze for a moment but then moaned, his hand sliding down to her bum and squeezing it whilst pressing her closer to him. She slipped her fingers into his hair and tugged before trailing her fingernails lightly along his scalp. He gasped and pulled away, keeping his arms in front of him as though to ward her off.

"That's… enough… for one night," he told her breathlessly, swallowing thickly.

"Okay… okay," she breathed, nodding jerkily.

In her passion, Hermione had thrown her wand back to his bed and picked up it along with her clutch.

"Got your things?" he whispered, still sounding winded.

"Yes."

"Let's go."

He took hold of her hand and they were gone with a _pop!_

They appeared in front of her closed door and she turned to him, blushing furiously.

"I'd invite you in but…" she trailed off, gesturing vaguely.

"Right, it's okay," he said, sounding more like his usual self.

"Thanks, Draco. Really," she told him honestly, looking up at him.

He looked abashed and scrumptiously tousled, cheeks tinged pink.

"Sleep well, Hermione," he told her huskily.

"You too, Draco," she breathed.

He raised his hand and held it in a tight first near his chest hesitantly before reaching out to brush his thumb against her reddened cheek. His silver eyes pierced her heart and she could swear that he could probably hear her heart beat in that moment.

"You really do look stunning," he smiled crookedly at her.

Her breath hitched in her throat and before she knew it he'd pressed a soft kiss on her lips before disappearing with a _pop! _She stared at the spot he stood previously and felt a silly smile take over her face.

_Oh, Draco Malfoy… you'll be mine yet._

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read, as always! Also, sorry that I've been dragging this story out. But I promise to update more regularly.


	28. Chapter 28

Thanks for your continued support, everybody. ^_^

Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.

* * *

Draco sat in his comfortable couch, awaiting Hermione's arrival. Try as he might, he just couldn't get their heated kiss out of his mind.

_Nobody's ever looked at me like that, especially in the state of disarray that I was in. I felt like her scorching gaze was going to burn me slowly until I was nothing more than a pile of ashes on the floor. I can't believe she wasn't wearing any knickers, either! At least I finally got to feel her pert little arse._

Draco felt something stir within the confines of his trousers and sighed.

_It was obvious she wanted to go further but I just couldn't take advantage of her like that._

To his immense relief, a timid knock sounded on the door and Draco shot up to his feet, thankful that Hermione's arrival stopped his fretting. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and smiled reflexively before even seeing her face and felt himself freeze at the sight of her.

She wore a form fitting black dress that had brightly embroidered flowers on it. It had a low cut neckline (that showed a hint of cleavage) and fell just above her knees with small sleeves that hugged her shoulders. Looking down at her feet, the first images that came to Draco's mind were whips and leather. She wore closed toe pumps that had three buckled straps around her ankle and the top part of her foot. Draco swallowed thickly and looked up at Hermione's face once more, noticing that her hair looked shorter than usual.

"Did you… cut your hair?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Her face broke out into a delighted smile as she stepped into his flat.

"Sort of. I charmed it so it could look shorter. The dress called for it," she shrugged easily.

"You look very beautiful, Miss Granger," he told her in a low voice, grabbing her hand and pulling her close.

Pink bloomed across her cheeks, which only increased her attractiveness in Draco's eyes.

"Oh? You don't look so shabby yourself, Mr. Malfoy," she purred, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Darling, the Malfoys always look better than _shabby_," he told her in his snobbiest voice.

She grinned and pulled him in for a kiss, catching him off guard but he was quick to reciprocate. He slid his hands down her back and succumbed to the fire in her kiss, feeling as though his body was slowly melding into hers.

"Hermione, I _loathe_ having to stop but we have to go," he whispered against her lips.

She groaned and pressed her forehead against his, breathing heavily.

"Alright. We'll finish this later," she smiled impishly at him.

He rejoiced at her words but gave her a regal nod, downplaying his feelings.

"Is it a Portkey again?" she asked warily.

"I'm afraid so. I'd Floo us but…" he trailed off, eyeing her.

"Yes, I much prefer a Portkey," she agreed nervously. "I've never looked particularly graceful climbing out of a fireplace... and with these heels? Forget it."

Draco chortled but didn't comment, choosing to give her shoes an appreciative glance instead.

"Also, I always get soot on my clothes."

"There's charms for that, darling," he told her teasingly.

_Oh, bugger… cool it with the nicknames. There's an infinitesimal chance she didn't notice. But then again, she's Hermione Granger, so bloody likely not._

"Yes, I know," she replied testily, giving him a sharp look.

"Alright, alright. I get it. Look, here's the Portkey and it'll activate in 30 seconds. Don't worry, I won't let go of you," he whispered into her ear.

He expected her to bristle at him and say that she could take care of herself but the grateful look she shot at him warmed him to his core.

_She trusts me. Hermione Granger trusts me. Could life get any better? Well, I can think of a few things…_

Draco felt himself get jerked forward and tightened his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. He could feel her trembling against him but she didn't whimper or scream, which made him feel oddly proud of her. Their feet touched land once again and heard Hermione exhale a sigh of relief. He looked down at her and gave her a smile, smoothing a strand of hair before taking her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"You okay?"

"I'm okay," she nodded, giving him a brief smile.

"Let's go."

"Where are we going?"

"To Muggle Spain, of course."

"What? _Spain_? Muggle Spain?" she gasped. "I thought you didn't…"

"That I didn't like venturing into Muggle places? It was a bit uncomfortable at first but going there felt like freedom. Free from being recognized as Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater and son of a Death Eater," he shrugged, hoping to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Free from being stared at and pointed to. Free from my past, even if for a little while."

Draco felt her hand give his a squeeze and appreciated the gesture.

"While I never faced the cruel scrutiny you did, I certainly understand. Initially, I'd even considered getting a flat in Muggle London so I could be free from reporters hounding me."

Draco led them out of Wizarding territory and into Muggle land. Hermione gaped around her (an action he found endearing) as he led her through the crowd.

"Do we have a reservation?"

"No, but it is a delightful outdoor restaurant. I think you'll like it," he looked at her, desperately hoping she would.

"I'm sure I will," she smiled reassuringly, giving his hand another squeeze. "I'm going to guess you speak Spanish?"

Draco simply smirked at her.

"Of course you do," she grumbled under her breath. "Just _how_ did you learn so many different languages?"

"Private tutors."

"That makes sense. Finally something useful the Malfoy name gave you," she joked lightly.

He laughed despite himself.

"Sounds about right."

"I must say, I'm very impressed Draco. I always figured you were clever but this just takes things to another level," she told him admiringly.

He resisted the urge to fidget but he did blush, looking away from her so she wouldn't see.

"I'm sure father would have had something to say about not using the Malfoy name to its full potential," he told her wryly. "Now that I think about it, I would call it 'exploiting.'"

She harrumphed but remained silent.

They continued to walk in comfortable silence and Draco caught snippets of conversation in Spanish but pushed it out of his mind and focused on the woman next to him, whose hand he held in his.

_It's so warm and soft, just like the rest of her. I'm the luckiest bloke ever._

"Here we are," he nodded his head.

Hermione gasped and a huge smile took over her face.

"Draco, it's so beautiful!"

Draco felt inclined to agree. It was one of his favorite restaurants to visit when he was in Spain. The tables and chairs were set in an outdoor patio with a large marble fountain in the center and there were usually musicians playing while people ate; overall, a very relaxing atmosphere.

He led them toward the hostess, who gave him a friendly smile.

"Buenas tardes, para cuantos?"

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes and pasted a smile on his face.

"Dos, por favor."

"Una mesa se acaba de vaciar. Esteban los llevara. Que pasen una buena noche," she told them, flashing a smile at Hermione as well.

To his delight, Esteban led them to a table near the fountain. Again, Draco held out Hermione's chair for her and tucked her in once she sat.

"Thank you," she murmured with a beautiful blush on her face.

"You're welcome."

Their waiter gave them a short nod and told him he'd be back to take their drink orders.

Draco found it a breath of fresh air that Hermione preferred to sit across from him rather than beside him. He'd always found it annoying when Pansy or dates sat next to him, taking up his space; truth be told, Draco didn't really liked being touched so he always lied to them and told his dates he preferred looking at their pretty faces. But having such beautiful woman seated across from him, he realized that his lie finally became the truth. He loved watching her reactions and enjoyed simply _looking_ at her.

"I keep expecting for you to snap at me," he blurted out.

He cringed inwardly and saw her give him a peculiar look.

"Why's that?"

"Every time I hold your chair out for you or open a door for you," he chuckled nervously, looking away from her eyes.

She laughed softly and stretched her hand out to press it over his.

"While I would've undoubtedly bitten someone else's head off, it's different with you. You just have this innate air of impeccable manners and it comes across as natural when you do it. Ron tried it once and it was the last time he ever did it," she told him, a corner of her lips curling cruelly.

"Can't say I feel bad for the sod and I can't believe what I'm about to say, but at least he tried, right? Although not everybody can pull it off and certainly not as well as I can. Truth is, it's not so much as something you pull off because it's an act... more like it was beaten into me. Not literally," he added quickly, not wanting to alarm her. "What I meant to say was that it was ingrained in me at a young age."

She gave him a reprimanding look for his offhand comment but didn't opine.

"I risk inflating your ego again, but this is really a beautiful place. Way to impress me yet again, Draco," she smiled, squeezing his hand.

He gave her a lazy smile and she barely held off from rolling her eyes.

Esteban came back and Draco ordered them a pitcher of sangria.

"It'll change your life," he told Hermione.

She gave him a strange look, her eyes roving his face until she nodded slowly.

"I think my life already has changed."

He gulped thickly but felt immensely pleased with himself.

_Wait, does she mean it as a good thing? Why else would she say that? Not like she would if it were a bad thing. Merlin's gonads, Malfoy, you're turning into a bloody woman by over thinking every little comment she says._

He pushed his feelings down and gave her a sly smile. She stared intently at him and Draco fidgeted, making it look like he was just shifting in his seat.

Esteban arrived with their pitcher of sangria and served them, telling them he'd be back for their order in a few minutes.

"Draco."

A small thrill of excitement flowed through him every time she said his name. He took a casual sip of his sangria and looked at her.

"Yes?" he drawled.

"You're a good Occlumens."

He felt somewhat startled by her statement but since it didn't seem to be a question, he kept quiet, wondering where the conversation was leading.

"But I'm not sure if it's always been Occlumensy, even when we were children…" she trailed off pensively and shook her head. "It's a little tough to read you sometimes. I've noticed that mask you hide behind comes on when you either become bored or don't want to give too much away. Why? Was hiding your feelings also beaten into you?"

He stared at the breathtaking and intuitive woman in front of him, feeling in awe of her. But that gave over to embarrassment and mild mortification at having caught his tells.

"Yes," he sighed wearily. "Father was sure to inculcate into his young and impressionable son that feelings were for inferiors and that Malfoys were anything but. So he taught me how to hide my thoughts and feelings, making my face blank as canvas no matter how tempestuous I might've felt inside."

She nodded solemnly and took a sip of her sangria. Her eyes widened as she stared at her glass with a grin but seemed to remember what he just told her and focused on him once more.

"That's what I thought. I imagine you became even better at covering your feelings up when you learned Occlumensy."

He simply nodded and resisted the urge to fidget once more.

"I don't want you to hide from me, Draco," she whispered to him. "I realize that it will take time, but I want to see every expression under the sun cross your face. Emotion is a beautiful, tragic thing and you're missing out from experiencing it."

Draco felt as though his mouth had run dry.

"I'm not sure I can at this point," he whispered, terrified.

"I can help you, if you'd like."

"How?" he asked, quirking his brow.

"Nothing comes to mind at the moment but I'm sure I'll think of something later," she smiled confidently.

Once again, Draco felt in awe of Hermione. While it would have annoyed him and would have felt like he'd been trying to get "fixed" had some other woman had told him that, it seemed only natural to come from her.

_She has such a wonderful heart. I don't think I'll ever deserve her. Still, I probably deserve her more than Weasley ever did. Well, I'd like to think so, anyway. _

"Thanks, Hermione," he told her softly, giving her a little smile.

She beamed at him in return, those chocolate eyes of hers sparkling.

"You're right. This sangria has definitely changed my life," she quipped, taking another drink.

Draco laughed and smirked at her.

"See, like that. You need to _let_ yourself feel, Draco. Don't hold back," she told him encouragingly.

"Laughing is easy though," he huffed.

"It's a start," she winked, taking another drink of sangria and looking away.

Draco felt his face warm up and stared at her, admiring the way the moonlight bounced off her hair.

_She really is something special._

Esteban came back and asked if they were ready to order. Hermione looked a little lost since she hadn't even glanced at the menu but then Draco asked if she minded if he ordered for them. To his surprise, she shook her head and gave him a grateful smile.

"Paella de marisco."

"Buena seleccion," Esteban nodded, giving them a smile before disappearing.

"What did you order?" she asked him curiously.

"You'll find out soon enough," he told her with an enigmatic smile.

Ever since she'd drunkenly told him that he was much better looking when he smiled, he'd made it a point to smile more often at her. She blushed but always smiled back, prompting Draco's smile to widen until his cheeks hurt_._

"Draco, I'm curious about something."

"When aren't you curious?" he teased.

Her face turned pink but didn't reply.

"Malfoy Manor."

"What about it?"

"I'm assuming it still belongs to you, right?" she asked, cocking her head.

"It legally passed on to me when I turned seventeen but I'd been overseeing it ever since father went to jail. Being the only Malfoy heir and all," he explained with a roll of his eyes.

"So why don't you live there?"

He gave her a humorless smile and fought to urge to tremble like a child.

"I'd be lonesome," he told her easily, looking away from her eyes.

It wasn't _technically_ a lie but he wasn't really sure how to explain his dislike for the place that wouldn't end up with Draco in a sobbing, whimpering mess under the table.

"That's understandable. Why don't you get your mother to live with you, then? I'm sure it holds a lot of childhood memories for you."

He flinched when she said 'memories' and scolded himself inwardly.

"She's not overly fond of the place," he murmured, taking a deep drink of sangria.

Her silence stretched out several panicked heartbeats and Draco refused to look at her, feeling deeply ashamed of himself.

"I'm so stupid," she whispered harshly under her breath. "Draco, how inconsiderate of me. I'm so sorry. How could I have—"

The tone of her voice surprised him and he couldn't help but look at her. A bitter expression marred her face as she bit her lip, stirring warmth in his chest.

_You idiot, this isn't the time to be thinking of snogging her silly._

Her eyes, however, looked glassy and she looked away when he focused on them.

"I apologize for bringing it up, Draco. I… oh, Merlin…" she mumbled in distress, pressing slim fingertips against her forehead.

Seeing her in an anguished state elicited the knee-jerk reaction of wanting to take her pain away.

"Hermione, don't do that to yourself. There's no need to apologize to me because nothing is your fault. You simply… you see, _he_ lived there that last year. It was undoubtedly a punishment for all of our combined failure," he uttered, swallowing thickly. "I saw horrifying things that still haunt me in nightmares and a part of me thinks I'll never stop having them. I saw things, I _did_ things… I'm not proud of it. I'm disgusted and it makes me feel like I'll never be able to get the blood off my hands. Everything that happened that year has erased any happy childhood memories I might have had at the Manor."

Tears slipped from Hermione's eyes as he spoke and felt drained after his explanation.

"I suffered a mild Dreamless Sleep potion addiction after the war but I knew I couldn't live the rest of my life that way, especially if I wanted to redeem myself. Still, I was a coward and hid from humanity, licking my wounds and fighting my demons. Mother had offered to let me live with her but I just couldn't. I didn't want to cause her any more agony. Plus, I needed to learn to rely on myself. I was so thankful that Shacklebolt didn't take my wand away because Merlin knows I was useless without my wand then, having had everything done for me with magic for as long as I can remember. Although really, I should be thankful to you and Potter for testifying because I might be rotting in Azkaban right along with my father if you hadn't."

Hermione quickly wiped at the tears that pooled on her lower eyelashes and Draco wanted nothing more than to do it himself. She sniffled and seemed to be attempting to get a hold of her emotions and finally took a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I shouldn't have made you talk. It really isn't my business…" she mumbled, looking away timidly.

"I had to tell someone sometime. Better here in public where I can hide behind a mask rather than risk coming undone in the privacy of my flat."

"I'm glad you trust me enough to confide in me, Draco. It means a lot to me. But… maybe we should talk about this some other time, when you're ready."

He gave her a small appreciative smile and nodded his head.

"Someday I'd like to hear your adventures with the pyrite duo when you were off searching… horcruxes."

"Oh, it wasn't all fun and games. We were constantly hungry and cold, often baring the brunt of Ron's bad temper. But then we had good days although there are times I struggle to remember those, especially when the bad ones come so easy to mind," she sighed, a troubled look settling on her face. "Didn't you read the Prophet's cover of it?"

"No, I stopped reading the Prophet ever since the end of fifth year."

"Ever since Harry inadvertently sent your father to prison," she whispered softly.

"Although I know he did it because my father was a bad man, I can't help but feel affronted and bitter towards him," he confessed suddenly.

"That's completely understandable, Draco," Hermione reassured him softly.

Their food arrived and Hermione looked upon their dish with wide eyed wonder before excitedly serving herself.

"It's so good!" she groaned.

Draco offered a little smile, his mind still reeling from their conversation. They ate dinner in comfortable silence and when they finished he ordered them fried tarts drizzled in honey, which made Hermione moan appreciatively. They polished off one more pitcher of sangria, which left them feeling pretty languid at the end. After paying, Draco turned to Hermione.

"Do you want to walk around?" he offered.

"No, let's go back home."

"My place or yours?"

"Yours," she smiled, grabbing hold of his hand and squeezing it.

_Look at that… a woman considers my place her home. Perhaps it's time that I change the wards so she's able to Apparate directly inside. Before, the thought of becoming too close to a woman would have sent me running to the hills but now… it's downright reassuring. Reassuring that life _**_will _**_go on despite all the bad shite that happened in the past… and a hope for a happy future. Preferably with Hermione in it._

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'Til next time, folks!


	29. Chapter 29

As always, thanks for your continued support. :)

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

* * *

They arrived safely back to Draco's flat and Hermione didn't hesitate to fall into his plush couch, listening to the sound of his snickers trickling from the kitchen.

"Wine, darling?"

A bevy of butterflies exploded in her stomach at the term of endearment.

_This is the third time he's called me that. I'm sure the first was just teasing but the second and this last one… it just sounds so natural coming from him._

"Yes, please," Hermione tittered elatedly.

"Someone's giddy."

She pressed her lips together and gave him an awkward smile, flushing before she looked away from his amused expression.

_I ought to knock it off, being this giggly is rather unlike me. Although I can't help that this man brings it out in me... can't really fault Pansy for simpering after him all the time. Wait, did I just commiserate with Parkinson? Merlin help me..._

Hermione saw him saunter over to her from the corner of her eye, holding a wine glass in each hand. He hovered over her and watched her, seemingly captivated. She turned and came face to face with his shirt-covered stomach, slowly roving her gaze upwards before finally meeting his eyes.

"You know, that shirt makes your eyes look steel blue," she blurted out to him.

_Damn, maybe I shouldn't drink anymore. That sangria's loosened my tongue enough as it is. Although… it may help Draco relax and let his guard down as well. Ah, well. One more glass couldn't possibly hurt._

"Does it really?" he smirked, seemingly pleased that she noticed such triviality.

"Yes, it makes you resemble your mother even more."

Draco looked rather taken aback by her response.

"I wasn't aware I shared many physical… similarities with Mother," he told her smoothly.

She rolled her eyes and sat up, curling a leg underneath her.

"Don't be a rude prat, Malfoy. I only meant that although there's no denying you're a Malfoy at first glance, there are… certain features you share with your mother. Or rather, features that your mother passed on to you."

"Oh? Like what?" he asked, finally sitting down next to her and handing her a glass of wine.

"Like the shape of your eyes. Yes, they may be the same color as your father's but you've got the same lovely almond shape as your mother," Hermione smiled. "And the shape of her eyebrows. But since yours are so fair, it's not as obvious. Oh, and your lips. You're not quite as thin-lipped as your father; rather, your lower lip is slightly poutier than your top one… just like your mother. Not to mention those cheekbones that could cut through diamonds."

"I wasn't aware you had a habit of staring at my parent's lips, Granger," he drawled. "Should I be concerned?"

"Don't be a prat," she repeated, frowning at him. "I'm merely observant."

"I know, I know," he sighed loudly, as though annoyed. "But thank you, really. For all I've stared at myself in the mirror I'd never noticed those things. All I ever saw was my father sneering back at me but now, thanks to you, I'll be able to see my mother as well."

Hermione remained quiet and took a drink of her wine.

"Ooh, this is delicious," she gasped, staring at the fizzy little bubbles in the glass.

Draco remained uncharacteristically quiet and Hermione turned to him.

"What's wrong?"

He seemed to snap out of his reverie and looked at her.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"You're awfully quiet," she said to him, injecting playfulness into her voice.

"You're all the conversation you need," he joked, grinning at her.

She rolled her eyes at him, pursing her lips slightly.

"I'm joking, darling. I'm just thinking, I suppose. Trying to put myself in your sexy, _sexy_ shoes," he said, glancing down at Hermione's footwear.

She got a warm, fluttery feeling in her chest as his eyes lingered on her legs before meeting her eyes once more.

"You want to try them on, Malfoy? I'm sure they'd look rather attractive on you," she teased. "Besides, you've got the legs for them."

"_No_, you've got the perfect, shapely legs for them… so why don't you keep them on while I continue to admire them?" he said, offering her an alluring smile.

Pink splotches appeared on Hermione's cheeks and she had to look away from the intensity of his molten eyes.

"So, why were you thinking about being in my shoes?" she asked quickly, hoping for a change of topic.

"All the adventures you and Potter went through. Although you lot always came back victorious, I'm sure there was never a moment when you weren't in a situation that was fraught with danger," he told her seriously.

"I think having Harry Potter as my best friend was a given for my life to be fraught with danger, as you've so eloquently put," she chuckled, brushing her fingertip along the rim of the glass.

"Bloody Potter," he rolled his eyes. "So tell me about them."

"You want to hear about my adventures?" Hermione questioned warily.

"I'm asking, am I not?" Draco challenged, arching an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine… first year we had to go pass through each professor's enchantments in order to get to Nicholas Flamel's stone, also known as the Philosopher's Stone. Long story short, it could convert metals into gold and it could be brewed into a potion called the Elixir of Life, which granting the drinker an immortal life. But I digress. If memory serves, the first enchantment was from Professor Sprout, who planted Devil's Snare. Ron and Harry just about had a coronary when I disappeared under it!" she laughed softly, shaking her head.

"Wait… you let that thing touch you?" he frowned, shuddering. "How did it not strangle you to death?"

"Easy, Malfoy. The secret was to keep calm and collected, something the boys couldn't do," she snickered. "Of course, I eventually had to conjure some flames since they wouldn't stop fighting it. Next up was Flitwick, who charmed a multitude of keys to make them fly although one key alone would be able to open the door for the following room. Next up was Minerva's life-sized chess board, in which Ron sacrificed himself so Harry and I could pass through to Snape's."

"What was Snape's?" he asked with wide silver eyes.

"Potions, naturally. Once Harry and I were caught in the chamber, black flames sprung up in through each doorway. The bottles were all lined up; two of them were so one could pass through the flames, unharmed. Two were poison, I believe, and I don't really remember the rest. Could have been water or mead," she shrugged, drinking wine.

"So how did you figure out which was which?" he queried, looking puzzled.

"Snape left a riddle. It didn't take me too long to figure it out but I couldn't be wrong just in case I accidentally poisoned Harry. Or myself," she blinked, realizing she could have poisoned herself inadvertently.

She caught a brief flash of consternation in Draco's eyes but continued before he'd have a chance to scold her.

"Thankfully I was right and he advanced while I went back and hauled Ron onto a broom so I could take him to the Hospital Wing and owl Dumbledore."

"How did you even get past that hideous dog?" Draco demanded, crossing his arms sullenly.

"We played music to it," she grinned. "Hang on, you saw Fluffy?"

"_Fluffy_? Is that what that menace's name was?" he huffed, grimacing.

"Yes," Hermione giggled. "It belonged to Hagrid."

"I'm not surprised," he mumbled. "He always did love creatures that would typically scare the sin out of people. Anyway, second year… and go."

"I wasn't there… being petrified and all," she shifted uncomfortably.

A tense silence followed her statement and Hermione fidgeted with her wine glass.

"I went to see you," he whispered unexpectedly.

"You… what?" she gaped at him.

"I didn't _really_ want you dead, Granger. I was overwhelmed with guilt, something I'd _never_ felt before, mind you. I felt that it was my fault, especially after taunting you... you know, when the chamber opened. I might've touched your hand," he blushed, looking away.

Hermione felt her heart swell with affection for him.

"Oh, Draco! That's so sweet!"

He glared half-heartedly at her.

"Oh, wait! I may not have gone on the basilisk hunt, but I _did_ brew Polyjuice Potion. Successfully, I might add," she told him smugly.

"What?!"

"That's right. I brewed it in the abandoned girls' toilet."

"But _why_?"

"Because Harry wanted to interrogate you, of course."

"Potter never did such thing," he sneered.

"Of course he did. You just weren't aware that it was him… _and _Ron," she laughed. "You see, they used Crabbe and Goyle's hair. Do you remember that one time when you saw Percy scolding them? Just before the holidays."

"Yes," he told her slowly, remembering. "Oh, my… Merlin's pants! They were Potter and Weasley? I let them into our common room! I told them about… no wonder the Ministry raided the Manor!"

Hermione remained silent, unsure of how to react to his outburst. But Draco only smoothed his hair back with his free hand and gave her a small smile.

"Now I'm impressed, Granger. Who brews Polyjuice when they're 12?" he mused.

"Thirteen," she corrected him.

"So why weren't you with them?" he challenged, quirking a brow.

"Well… er…"

"Out with it!" he said, poking her stomach.

"Hey! No poking, I'm still full. Anyway… _fine._ I'd gotten some of Millicent Bulstrode's hair from that time from the dueling club when we'd been rolling on the ground. Turned out it wasn't her hair but rather…"

"Her cat's fur," he finished for her.

"Yes," she sighed heavily, waiting for him to mock her.

To her surprise, Draco simply sniggered and shook his head in faux sadness.

"That sure taught you. So… third year?"

"That was the year I'd been given the Time-Turner, so Harry and I went back in time to not only save Sirius but Buckbeak as well. _And _I got to see myself punching you again," she told him brightly.

Draco grumbled incoherently, taking a long drink of his wine.

"We had to use Buckbeak to spring Sirius from the topmost tower and it was one of the most terrifying experiences I've ever had. Harry and Sirius, however, seemed to enjoy it," she sniffed, thinking they were out of their minds.

"If that bloody bird hadn't mangled my arm then maybe I might have enjoyed riding it too," he told her grumpily.

"You tried to get it killed, Malfoy! That wasn't fair. Sure, Buckbeak was a bit… er, scary looking, especially with that sharp beak and long talons but he was really very docile."

"It was still a risk for other students," he told her, sticking his chin in the air.

"Maybe if you'd _listened_ to Hagrid instead of goofing off with your cronies…" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Okay, how about a truce? It was wrong of me to tell my father that I wanted that bird's head on a platter but it was still a menace," he told her, looking slightly agitated.

She watched him cautiously but conceded.

"Fine, truce."

"Truce," he smirked, holding his hand out.

Hermione stared at it as though it might grow fangs and bite.

"Won't count until you shake," he said in a sing-song voice, wriggling his fingers.

She rolled her eyes and extended her hand, slipping it into his. As usual, his hand was warm though Draco looked shocked that hers was chilled. He squeezed her hand and gave her a look that sent shivers all the way to her toes.

"Cold, Granger? Would you like for me to… warm you up?" he smiled enticingly.

She tried to snatch her hand from his but he kept a firm grip on it.

"Malfoy," she whined, pouting.

He heaved a loud sigh and reluctantly let go of her hand.

"Fine then, spoilsport. Fourth year?"

"I wasn't there, but from Harry's recounting… it was terrifying," she whispered. "He had nightmares day in night out about witnessing Cedric's death and not being able to do anything about it. The guilt wracked him. Not to mention that's when his tie to Voldemort began."

Draco flinched when she spoke his name but she didn't snap at him when she would have had it been someone else.

"Fifth year, the Department of Mysteries," she continued. "We flew on _thestrals,_ creatures I hadn't been able to see then. We fought against… your father and other Death Eaters. That was the year we accidentally smashed all of the Time-Turners."

Draco watched her with a strange expression on his face until his eyes suddenly bugged out.

"You didn't… duel my father, did you?" he gasped, leaning forward and grabbing her wrist tightly.

"No, but I dodged several of his killing curses," she answered grimly.

"That fucking bastard!" he swore lividly.

"Draco, calm down. I was okay. Or at least until Dolohov got to me…" she trailed off, brushing her fingers against her chest absently.

"Dolohov?" he whispered. "What did he do to you?"

She remembered a flash of purple light and then being surrounded by darkness…

"Hermione?" she heard Draco's anxious voice sweep over her. "Hermione, for the love of chocolate frogs, answer me!"

She blinked, coming out of her reverie.

"Sorry, Draco…"

"What happened? What did Dolohov do to you?" he asked her urgently, looking fearful.

"I'm not really sure _what _it was since I'd cast a Silencio upon him beforehand. But he slashed some purple flames across my chest, causing me to pass out. Quite frankly, I'm surprised he didn't finish me off then and there."

She heard Draco swallow loudly.

"You wouldn't know what curse it was, would you?" she asked, turning to look at him.

Draco looked even paler than usual and seemed to be trembling.

"No, I… I don't. He was a sick and sadistic bastard who loved creating curses and torturing people with them. I was never particularly close to him," he told her quietly. "It doesn't cause you any pain, does it? You've recovered, right?"

"Madam Pomfrey told me I had although…" she frowned, lightly brushing her fingers against her chest.

Draco leaned closer, looking close to madness.

"Although _what_, Hermione?" he pressed.

"Sometimes I swear I can feel a phantom pain… which is ridiculous since I've since recovered."

"Is it often? Does it hurt much?"

"Draco, calm down. I'm fine. _Honestly._ It's been ages since it happened and had it been some sort of festering curse I'm sure it would have killed me by now."

But instead of calming him down, Draco looked even more panicked.

"You should go to St. Mungo's. Let's go. Right now, as a matter of fact. No time like the present to get a check-up!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco, I feel fine. I feel great, actually," she giggled, looking at the nearly empty wineglass in her hand.

Draco scowled at her and set his own glass down.

"This is _serious_, Granger!" he snapped. "You can't mess around—"

"Draco, take a deep breath. In fact, take ten. I'm fine… but I promise that there's even a second when I don't, I'll go to St. Mungo's," she told him soothingly, reaching out to give his knee a reassuring squeeze.

He eyed her guardedly but nodded eventually.

"I'd ask you for an Unbreakable Vow but…"

"That's ridiculous, Draco," she sighed impatiently.

"Sorry," he whispered, looking down at her hand.

"Draco… it's touching that you're so concerned about me. It's a little disconcerting but vastly appreciated nonetheless. _Really_," she insisted, trying to catch his eye.

He finally relented and looked at her before nodding slowly.

"You've come to mean a lot to me, Hermione. I don't have enough people that I love close to me as it is—"

_Did he say what I think he just said? No, I probably misunderstood him. Maybe I shouldn't drink anymore, especially if it'll just make me hear things._

"I… might as well be honest with you, Hermione. Going _a lot_ off topic... as much as I'd loathe going back to the manor, it wouldn't be so terrible if I had someone with me and the only way I'd ever go back is if I married. Now… I'm serious about this, about _you _and while I can't promise you anything…" he trailed off, his eyes dark and intense. "I can't promise you anything but you can bet I'm going to work my arse off to be worthy of a future with you."

Hermione blinked, unable to believe what she had just heard come from Draco Malfoy's mouth. Apparently she remained quiet for too long because he looked away and bit his lip.

"But I certainly understand if you don't feel the same way," he told her quickly, turning red.

"No! Draco, no… I… you just caught me off guard," she blushed, reaching out for him.

Her words seemed to get through to him because he looked at her shyly, looking less humiliated.

"I've certainly enjoyed spending time with you, Draco. You're much more brilliant than anybody's given you credit for and I've always admired a clever mind. Although there are times when you behave like a snotty little arse, I can tell that you don't _really_ mean it. But most importantly… you _care_. Not only do you care about me, but you also listen to me," she swallowed heavily, feeling tears sting her eyes. "I can't even begin to tell you how gratifying it is. I know it's wrong to compare, but I felt utterly invisible to Ron even when I was next to him. Again, it's useless to compare two people as different as you and him but… there is _no_ comparison."

She watched as he clenched his jaw at the mention of her ex but blessedly refrained from replying.

"Hermione, I _revere_ the very ground you walk on," he told her ardently, sitting closer to her and taking her hand in both of his. "You have no idea just how exquisite you are and that itself is a blessing and a curse. A blessing because _I _alone get the honor of showing you all the ways you are and curse because you can't see just how magnificent you are."

Hermione blushed all the way to her roots of her hair but didn't break eye contact with Draco.

"That's another reason why…" she whispered, feeling like she was in a trance.

"Why what?" he questioned, tilting his head.

"Nobody's ever looked at me the way you're looking at me now. With a mix of… awe, tenderness and yearning," she swallowed thickly, feeling hot all of a sudden.

She saw Draco catch his breath and stared at her in wonder, a tiny smile curling around the corners of his lips.

"Erm… let's go back to my adventures, shall we? Or else I might forget," she smiled timidly at him.

He cleared his throat and nodded curtly.

"Very well, miss. Do continue," he told her regally, letting go of her hand but remain pressed closed to her.

"Sixth year..." she trailed off, unsure of how to continue."Harry suspected from the start, you know. That you were a Death Eater, that is. But Ron and I both felt that it was a ridiculous claim so we never really listened to his tirades about you 'being up to no good.' I also thought it was absurd when he accused you of bringing the cursed necklace into Hogwarts because while I knew you were a pretentious bully, that didn't make you evil or even a killer. But Harry scoffed at me, telling me that I was stupid to have so much faith in you. In the end, he was right."

Draco squirmed but never once broke eye contact with her.

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Thanks for taking the time to read, follow, favorite and review.

See ya next week. ^_^


	30. Chapter 30

Thanks for the reviews, for following and for adding the story to your favorites. :)

Also, I tend to use a mix of movie-verse Deathly Hallows and the book. Although it's been a while since I last read it, so my memory might be a bit rusty.

Disclaimer: Still a big nope.

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Remorse and disgrace coursed hotly through Draco's body as he stared into the warm gaze of Hermione Granger.

"You… defended me to Saint Potter?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, who would have ever thought?" she chuckled softly.

"But I ended up disappointing you, in the end," he muttered, looking away. "Just like I disappointed everybody else."

"Draco, you're being too harsh on yourself. You were _forced_ no matter how nice Voldemort made your mission and reward sound. You were barely of age, for crying out loud! You need to stop blaming yourself for circumstances that were out of your hands," she told him firmly. "I'm sure he wasn't above using your parents as bait, am I right?"

She sounded so deeply aggrieved on his behalf that he couldn't help but look at her. The sight of her stole his breath; her face was glowing with righteous indignation on his behalf.

"You're right," he whispered, a haunted look coming into his eyes.

"Despicable," she hissed. "You were only doing what _you_ thought was best for you and your parents, Draco. You may have been a callous brat in school but surely you loved your parents and I know you'd never let them get hurt."

"That seemed the only appropriate time for me to have feelings, according to my father," Draco sighed wearily, closing his eyes. "He scolded and used the Cruciatus me for not killing Dumbledore. But then he stopped and told me he was pleased that I'd risked it all for their sake all the same."

He heard Hermione gasp, her grip tightening on his knee.

_Please don't ask, Hermione, please don't ask…_

She seemed to have heard his internal pleading because she didn't probe further.

"At that point, I was marginally less indifferent of you and I hoped that you were smart enough to keep yourself out of harm – and Greyback's – way."

"Felix Felicis helped me," she blurted out before blushing.

Draco's eyes flew open and he stared at Hermione.

"Felix Feli— but I thought Potter had won it?"

An unexpected frisson of jealousy hit him, making it a little hard to breathe.

_Could there have been something more to their friendship I'm not aware of?_

"He did, but he gave us the last of it – and instructed us to give some to Ginny as well – in case things turned ugly."

"Where was he?"

"Off with Dumbledore to destroy an alleged horcrux."

Draco gaped, reaching out to grasp her wrist again.

"Was it?" he breathed, feeling his muscles tauten.

"No, it was long gone," she sighed, reliving those tense moments. "According to Harry, the fake horcrux was in a bowl of a potion that had to be drunk, a potion that seemingly caused the drinker to relive their most painful or worst moments. Dumbledore drank it, naturally, which was why he was so weakened by the time they arrived at the Astronomy Tower."

"No wonder he looked so much older and tired than usual," Draco whispered numbly, recalling the moment vividly.

"Draco… Harry told me that Dumbledore had offered you a way out. Had Snape not arrived, would you have taken it?"

He froze, remembering the old headmaster's words as clearly as though it happened yesterday.

"I considered it, yes. My parents, namely my father, would have considered my decision an abomination. He probably wouldn't have ever forgiven me but I would have. Of course, I'm not so sure I would have lived much longer considering that Aunt Bellatrix arrived soon after," he answered wryly.

"Oh, Draco," she sighed, pulling him into a quick hug but releasing him much too soon to his liking.

"Snape did what I never could have."

"Snape _had_ to."

He frowned but gave her curious once over.

"Why?"

"Dumbledore asked him to. You see, the headmaster was dying. It was a curse that was spreading rapidly and he wouldn't have lived past the end of the year. He wanted to die on his terms, hoping to change a young man's mind."

"I didn't know that," he whispered.

"Nobody did. Harry saw it from Snape's memories."

"What?"

"We were there when... Voldemort ordered Nagini to bite Snape. After hearing them leave, we rushed to Snape's side. His memories were trickling down like tears. It was quite a sight and unlike anything I've ever seen. I had a vial in my purse and that's where he stored them. He looked… terrible. He told Harry to look at him and then… he was gone," Hermione recounted quietly.

After a moment of silence, Draco squeezed her wrist.

"Thank you."

"Whatever for?"

"For being there for my godfather in his last moments," Draco told her solemnly.

"He was… your godfather?" she gasped, pressing the tips of her fingers against her bottom lip in surprise.

"Yes, he and father were close."

"I'm so sorry, Draco," she murmured, flipping her hand and grasping his gently.

"At least he wasn't alone," he shuddered, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Such an awful fate," she conceded.

Draco's throat felt bone dry, as though it were on the verge of closing shut yet it didn't send him into a panic thanks to Hermione's soothing presence.

"So… horcrux hunting?"

"What would you like to know? There's a lot of nothing," she chuckled humorlessly.

"Tell me the big moments," he prompted her.

"The big moments…" she repeated thoughtfully. "Before our camping trip, we'd been residing in Grimmauld Place."

"What? The Black ancestral home?" Draco gasped.

"The very one," Hermione nodded.

"I'd only been there a couple of times. I wonder if my face is still on that bizarre family tree…" he mused.

"I remember seeing it. Very haughty," she teased. "Anyway, it was a bit difficult to get close to Kreacher, who only seemed to love Bellatrix and your mum but we eventually came through to him. That's where we formed our plan to break into the Ministry to retrieve Slytherin's locket."

"It was you who broke into the Ministry?" he gasped. "_How_? There were those Undesirable posters of you three everywhere!"

"Polyjuice," she answered simply, her mouth set in a humorless smile.

"I should have known," Draco uttered, shaking his head. "So, what happened then?"

"After getting separated we finally found Umbridge questioning a poor Muggleborn witch. It was all so nauseating until Harry stunned her while I grabbed the locket and duplicated it, giving her a fake. We turned back into our 'undesirable' selves and ran to the Floo. Unfortunately, Yaxley, I believe, grabbed onto us as we Flooed back to Grimmauld Place and so we unwittingly let him in within the confines of the Secret Keeper boundaries. I'd Apparated the three of us to the Forest of Dean before we could step foot on the ground. Ron got badly splinched and lost a lot of blood," she bit her lip, paling at the memory.

"I'm surprised you didn't pack a Blood Replenishing Potion."

"You have no idea how many times over I scolded myself for forgetting that," she told him sharply. "I had everything _but_ that bloody potion!"

Not knowing how to comfort her, Draco simply squeezed her hand.

"So what then? Please tell me you managed to gain the locket from you foolhardy venture."

"Yes, we managed to get what we wanted out of that mess. Of course, it was something entirely too valuable to leave laying about, so we all took turns wearing it. It was awful and stuck to to our skin. Creepier still, it never warmed up, no matter how long I'd worn it around my neck," Hermione quivered. "It also had a way of murmuring insidious thoughts into our head… but since I've always considered myself fairly strong-minded I simply ignored those whispered fears."

"You're one of the strongest witches I've ever met," Draco told her earnestly.

She beamed at him, making his heart flutter in his chest.

"Like I'd told you, it brought out the worst in Ron. Maybe because—"

"He was so weak minded?" Draco sneered.

"—he had the most to lose out of the three of us," she continued as though he hadn't interrupted. "So, he left and Harry and I finally decide to move on. We Apparated elsewhere and though we never strayed too far apart physically, our minds were worlds apart."

_See? She was never interested in Potter!_

Still, Hermione looked strangely shifty and Draco was sorely tempted to ask but knew she would inevitably reveal her thoughts in due time.

"We came to the conclusion that the next reasonable step would be to head to Godric's Hollow to try to search for the Sword of Gryffindor, which was one of the items that could destroy horcruxes. To our horror, we encountered Nagini there."

Draco felt cold wave of dread travel down his spine.

"You… that thing got close to you?" he hissed, grimacing.

"Not only that, but we were only seconds away from being face to face with Voldemort," she bit her lip. "But Harry and I Apparated away just in time."

"You're ridiculously lucky. You know that, right?"

"Must have been the traces of the Felix I drank in sixth year," she joked feebly. "Anyway, we didn't find any sword although we did come across Mr. and Mrs. Potter's graves. On Christmas, come to think of it."

Draco brushed his thumb against her knuckles in a gentle caress.

"Then one morning, I'm awakened by Harry to find out that not only has Ron returned, but that he was the one to destroy the locket horcrux. They didn't tell me how it happened but years later Harry told me when he was drunk," she laughed softly.

"What happened?" Draco asked, curious despite himself.

"Harry had taken watch when a silver doe appeared to him, a Patronus. It led him through the snow until they reached some sort of frozen lake, when the doe suddenly vanished. Harry looked around cautiously until something shining at the bottom of the lake caught his eye… it was the Sword of Gryffindor! So Harry, being the foolish, reckless boy he was, took his clothes off and dove in. He hadn't taken the locket off and it seemed to sense that the very item that could destroy it was close, so it started to strangle Harry. That's when Ron appeared. He saved Harry from drowning and managed to grab the sword. After discussing it, it was decided that Ron would be the one to destroy it since he was the one who grabbed hold of it in the first place. But before he could even stab it, the bit of Voldemort in the locket taunted Ron. Harry told me that a silvery me and Harry popped out, who mocked him for being a coward, being the son who was least loved and for having a girl who preferred his best friend over him. In the end, Ron ended up stabbing it and Harry told me that he told Ron he'd always seen me as a sister. According to Harry, Ron cried."

Draco felt dumbstruck by the story, fighting the natural animosity he felt for the redhead in lieu of the pity that loomed in the corners of his mind.

_Seems like Weasley's braver than he looks. It must have been horrifying, though. Of course, having lived with the monster itself and being forced to listen to it slight my family..._

"Then?" he whispered.

"We went to speak to Mr. Lovegood and then… got caught by Snatchers," she said in a voice below a whisper.

Draco felt as though his blood had been drained from his body.

"I was… so terrified. Yet when I saw you, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Perhaps it was desperation given the circumstances. But you didn't give us away. You didn't give _me_ away, the Mudblood."

"Don't call yourself that," he told her curtly.

"It's what I am," she told him bravely, extending her arm for him to see her scar.

"I may have been a bastard to you in school, but that didn't mean I truly wanted you dead. I especially didn't want Greyback putting his filthy hands on you," Draco spoke tightly. "If I hadn't admired you before then, surely I would have begun to in that moment. Aunt… Bellatrix was relentless with the Cruciatus and yet you never gave anything away. If it had been me, I would have been singing like a canary. As it is, I can still hear your screams in my nightmares. They also seemed to linger in the Manor… that's another reason why I didn't want to stay and live there."

Draco felt his throat begin to tighten as hot tears stung his eyes.

"You did what you had to," she told him resolutely.

Draco scoffed but didn't respond verbally.

"Dobby died," she told him suddenly.

"I imagined. Bellatrix always did have excellent aim," he stated dispassionately.

"Then we arrived at Bill's house. You know, Ron's eldest brother. Anyway, we formed a plan to break into Gringott's, which consisted of me using Polyjuice to turn into your aunt."

Draco snapped his gaze to Hermione, whose features looked a little blurry due to the unshed tears in his eyes. He wiped them impatiently and stared at her, feeling his pride and admiration for her grow.

"It certainly helped I had her wand," she said dryly.

"So you lot..."

"Were the ones to break into the Lestrange vault. Harry had to Imperio the goblin because he became suspicious," she cringed guiltily.

"What did you steal?" he asked, half horror-struck and half amused.

"Hufflepuff's cup, of course. I had the pleasure of destroying that one," she grinned dourly. "But before I jump into that story, let me finish this one."

Draco nodded eagerly, wondering if any bits of Voldemort's soul tried to torture Hermione.

"We entered the vault but everything had been enchanted to turn into duplicates of whatever item was touched. We almost died in there, no thanks to Griphook but managed to get out of the vault… and we made our grand escape on the dragon," she grinned, lighting up.

"So there _is_ a dragon! I'd always wondered if it was true or a mere myth to keep thieves out."

"Oh, believe me… it was very real."

"You're amazing, you know that? This'll be a great tale to tell your children someday," he told her carelessly.

He blushed at the realization of his words and looked away, berating himself inwardly. Thankfully for Draco, she didn't catch his slip and continued her tale.

"So… we make our way to Hogsmeade. We're almost caught when the Caterwauling Charm went off but thankfully Mr. Dumbledore lets us in."

"Mr. Dumbledore?" Draco frowned.

"The headmaster's younger brother," she explained.

"I didn't know he had a brother."

"Neither did we. Dumbledore kept a lot of himself to himself," she sighed softly.

"Sneaky old man," Draco muttered, shaking his head.

"So he lets us in through a portrait, which so happens to be the entrance to the Room of Requirement! It seems like _everybody's_ there… with the exception of the Slytherins, of course."

"Hey, no need to sound nasty."

Hermione only rolled her eyes.

"Harry asked the Ravenclaws whether they've heard of any magical item from their house. Luna mentioned the lost diadem and Harry gets the idea to speak to the Grey Lady, who turned out to be Helena Ravenclaw herself, Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter. So while Harry and Luna went to the Ravenclaw common room, Ron and I headed down to the chamber to search for more basilisk fangs. That's what coated the sword's blade, basilisk venom. Anyway, I destroyed the cup and received the shower of my life. We headed out, each carrying an armful of basilisk fangs, and ran into Harry. He assured us that he'd prevously seen the diadem in the room where Ginny had hidden his Advanced Potions book. So we went up there and who do we come across but you and your cronies. I must admit, it was good to see you. You didn't look so haggard although you hadn't yet lost the haunted look in your eyes."

Draco felt touched by her words and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze.

"I know what it must have looked like, but if you remember, it was them firing Avada at you. I couldn't bring myself to do it after barely letting you scrape by at the manor. So in the pretense of fighting, I fired inoffensive spells at the stacks of things near you. I kept praying that they continued to miss because if one of those fell on you…" he tensed himself, gritting his teeth at the memory of his heart being on the verge of leaping out of his chest.

"Did you… care about me?" Hermione asked, sounding bemused.

"I'm… not sure. I just knew that I didn't want you to die," he admitted, feeling his cheeks burn.

Her face relaxed into a soft smile and Draco wanted nothing more than to hold her. But he also wanted to watch her face as she told her side of the story.

"We managed to destroy the horcrux and save you. Now there was only Nagini left. But after leaving the Room of Requirement, everything felt a bit hazy. I recall snippets and blurry memories… I came close to being eaten by Nagini but Neville saved us, beheading the thing. Then we went to find Snape… more fighting, firing spells and dodging green curses…" she murmured dazedly. "Before we knew it, Harry had gone to turn himself to Voldemort. Those were the most excruciating thirty minutes of my life and only worsened when I saw Harry's seemingly lifeless body being carried by Hagrid. I thought Ron would cry but he simply stood still, unable to believe our best friend was truly dead. But then… Harry leapt out of Hagrid's arms and started dueling Voldemort!"

Draco remembered vividly when the fighting commenced once again. He felt like such a coward, hiding from the Death Eaters and from the Order members, but he'd simply been following his mother's orders to _stay safe_.

"Then everything was over. There was a maddening quiet and peace I'd never felt in my life," she sighed tiredly, closing her eyes. "I saw you, you know."

"You saw me?" he parroted.

Hermione opened her eyes and nodded.

"Sitting alone on the hidden staircase. I almost approached you but I wasn't sure what to tell you; whether to offer my sarcastic condolences or equally acerbic congratulations," she admitted, sounding embarrassed.

"I would have deserved it," he chuckled somberly.

"So I left you alone instead. After all, I wasn't sure my presence would have been welcome. So I went with Ron to offer my condolences to Molly… to celebrate with my friends that we survived while mourning the ones who didn't. I never saw you at school again. The next time I saw you was at your trial."

Draco nodded broodingly.

"You wanted to talk to me."

"I did."

"I'm sorry that I didn't give you a chance to approach me. I wasn't sure whether you'd tell me something spiteful or whether you'd be genuinely interested in talking to me. Besides, Weasley didn't seem keen on letting you… but I just couldn't simply walk away," he whispered, grabbing hold of her other wrist and pulling her closer.

"I couldn't get that look you sent me out of my mind," she confessed, wrapping her arms around Draco.

"I couldn't get _yours _out of mine, either. It give me hope that there'd come a day where I'd be accepted, where I'd be seen as more than my failures. Needless to say, not everybody had been as forgiving as you," he admitted, bringing her close to him and inhaling the scent of her.

"Yet here we are," she told him, nuzzling her nose against the side of his throat.

"Here we are," he repeated, pressing his cheek onto the top of her head.

"Why didn't you go back to Hogwarts to finish your seventh year?" she asked him reproachfully.

Draco couldn't help but smile at her tone.

"I don't think anybody would have been happy to see me," he answered truthfully.

"You would have been named Head Boy, you know."

"What?" he asked, wondering if he'd heard correctly.

"Minerva told me that despite everything that happened, Dumbledore never stopped believing in you. He knew you were ranked below me and that you had a thirst for proving yourself."

"The old man was a fool," he whispered softly, closing his eyes.

"Fool he may have been, but he'd been right."

"Who was named Head Boy, then?"

"Anthony Goldestein. Not many Slytherins returned. A pal of yours did, though… Blaise Zabini."

"Blaise! I haven't spoken to him in ages. Quite literally," Draco sighed, feeling his heart clench. "We weren't always friends, you know."

"Oh?"

"We constantly competed against each other. It was only natural since we were both good looking and rich. I did, however, tend to mouth off much more constantly than he did. We decided to come to a truce, finding traits to admire in the other and using them to our advantage... and that's how we became friends," he chuckled.

"Ah, yes… I'd forgotten how _vanity_ makes for an icebreaker," she joked, nudging his side affectionately.

"Tease all you want, but it's definitely true," he sniffed delicately, smirking.

"Why didn't you contact any of your old friends?"

"Like I'd told you, I didn't consider them all school chums. Some friendships were made out of pure convenience, such as mine with Pansy. As a matter of fact, Mother had been pushing me that last year to marry her so we could produce some pureblooded heirs," Draco groaned, shivering.

"Hmm… squashy faced babies with white hair. Cute," Hermione told him wryly.

Despite himself, Draco laughed.

"I think babies with curly blonde hair would be _much_ cuter," he mused out loud.

He cringed, biting his tongue.

_Damn it, way to scare a woman, Draco! Barely been out on four dates and you're talking about your hypothetical children._

"That would be cute," she agreed neutrally.

Draco's heart slammed into his rib cage painfully.

"Draco?"

"Yes, darling?"

_Unbidden words just keep slipping out! Get a hold of yourself, man._

"May I see your Mark?"

"Why do you want to see it?"

"Curiosity, I suppose," he felt her shrug.

_You're not a very good liar, Hermione… but I'm not about to tell you that just now. What is she trying to cover up? I don't want to frighten her away after the conversation we just had._

"Are you sure?"

"Very," she nodded, pulling away to convey the seriousness of her nature.

He bit his lip and glanced down at his arm before looking back into her deep brown eyes.

"I don't want to scare you away," he admitted softly to her, closing his eyes. "Especially since it feels like we've just made a big breakthrough in our… relationship."

"Draco," she said, shaking him gently.

He opened his eyes slowly, expecting to see her glaring at him. To his surprise, she just looked fiercely determined.

"It takes so much more than a tattoo to scare _me_ away," she said passionately, gently grabbing his left hand.

"I still haven't told you yes," Draco pointed out.

"You may not say yes today but you _will_ tell me yes someday," she told him resolutely.

_Shouldn't it be me who says that to you, Hermione?_

Draco smiled at mixture of stubbornness and bravery in her. Still, it wasn't something he showed off to anybody, let alone the woman he loved.

_But she _**_wants _**_to see the bloody thing and who are you to stop her? Quite frankly, I'm surprised she hadn't asked before._

Draco took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

"Yes, I trust you," he whispered.

Such a dazzling smile appeared on her face that Draco felt stunned for a moment. Slowly, she unbuttoned the cuffs on his shirt and rolled the sleeve with the utmost, never once breaking eye contact with him. He felt his heart speed up the closer she reached… and nearly felt it stop when she looked down at the scarred remains of the Dark Mark. It wasn't something Draco liked contemplating let alone looking at but having Hermione do so made him brave.

It wasn't as dark as it used to be, which pleased Draco. Maybe there'd come a day when it would vanish altogether. He felt her cool fingertips brush against it and heard her gasp softly, causing his heart to drop into his stomach.

_That's it. I've done it. She's going to leave me now._

"It feels… so rough," she mused, looking up at him.

"It's not called a 'brand' for nothing," he told her quietly.

Her brow creased for a moment as she thought until...

"Are you serious?" she asked, squeezing his arm tightly. "They branded you… quite literally?"

He remained quiet, knowing that alone would be answer enough.

"How… despicable! Utterly and certifiably sadistic! Branding you like you're some kind of animal!" she seethed, clutching his arm even tighter.

"Careful, darling, that area has always felt particularly sensitive," he said softly, not wanting to arouse any pity from her.

She immediately lessened her grip and apologized.

"It's alright," he told her honestly. "I'm just glad…"

"You're glad? About what?" she inquired with wide doe eyes.

"That you haven't run from me, screaming."

"Draco, I… I would never. What fun would it be if we were all perfect?" she asked him tenderly.

"It's always been very fun for _me_," he told her, giving her an unenthusiastic smirk.

"Right, you're so perfect," she teased.

"I am. I try not to look in the mirror too much lest I fall in love with myself," Draco sighed tragically, glad for the change of topic.

She stared at him for a long moment before a smile curled the corners of her lips.

"I can see how."

Draco swallowed nervously and was about to respond when she pressed her lips against the Mark. He groaned and closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her warm lips against his skin.

"You needn't be ashamed of yourself, Draco. You've been through so much. I mean, look at the person you've become! You've come so far and I'm so proud of you," she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.

_Would you look at that? A woman who's proud of me not for my money or for my name… but for the man I've become._

* * *

Thanks for reading! :)


	31. Chapter 31

I'd just like to take the time to thank everybody for their continued support of my fic. Adding it to favorites, following and reviewing... it's very heartening to know people are still interested in reading Draco and Hermione's journey. :) That said, we're getting closer to the end. I'd originally planned for this to be no longer than 30 chapters buuuut that train's long gone. XD

Disclaimer: Unfortunately still not mine.

* * *

Hermione smoothed down her navy pencil skirt nervously, admiring the scalloped trim. Then she made sure that her satiny magenta blouse was still neatly tucked into the skirt. She was patting her hair down when she heard a very familiar set of footsteps making their way towards her office and heaved a tiny sigh of relief.

"You ready to...?" his voice tapered off.

Hermione looked up from the file she had been pretending to read and had to hold back the smile that threatened to take over her face at Draco's stunned expression.

_Will I ever tire of seeing him gape like a fish whenever he sees me? Godric, I hope not._

"Ready to…?" she arched her eyebrow, setting the file down calmly.

_I feel foolish... I've never excelled at playing dumb. If he weren't so tongue-tied, I know he'd call me out on it, too._

He cleared his throat nervously and licked his lips.

"To go to lunch," he told her, sounding strangely out of breath.

"Oh, sure. Let me just grab my robes," she said to him, deliberately slipping the garment on slowly.

He nodded hazily and watched her, gulping loudly when Hermione freed her flowing hair from where it had been constricted under the collar of her robes.

"Let's go," she smiled up at him.

They walked out of her office in silence, side by side. Yearning swept through Hermione's and wished that she could hold his hand without the repercussions of being gawked at or the subject of gossip; she felt her fingers twitch when her hand brushed against Draco's and held her breath to refrain from taking it in hers.

_Come to think of it, it's not something that's come up for discussion. We barely touch in public, for Godric's sake! With the exception of Rome when we made out in the restaurant. Then again, it _**_was _**_Rome…_

They made their way to the delightful little café where Hermione had eaten with Harry weeks ago. They made a beeline toward one of the umbrella-topped tables since the sun was shining even if it was a little windy; the area was charmed so that even if it was raining, the weather wouldn't affect one from taking a seat outside.

Like always, Draco pulled out her chair for her and she beamed at him.

_Being a gentleman looks attractive on him. Merlin, how did I get so lucky?_

"How did your morning go?" she queried, leaning forward slightly.

Draco still looked mildly dazed, which made her want to grin triumphantly but held back from doing so lest he think she's mocking him. At her inquiring look, he seemed to snap out of his daze.

"Er… busy, like always. Pansy keeps riding my arse about a report that's not due until two weeks even though I've assured her relentlessly that I'd get it to her in time," huffed, rolling his eyes. "While she's a fair boss nobody will ever come close to you."

Her cheeks warmed with pleasure and felt more than a little smug at his words.

_Hah, take that, Parkinson! Even as a boss he prefers me._

"That means a lot, Draco," she chuckled softly, lowering her gaze coyly.

Their waitress arrived, mooning over Hermione (but politely acknowledging Draco) before finally taking their order. She left them to their own devices once more and Hermione found Draco to be unusually quiet.

"Is something on your mind?" she queried. "You look a thousand miles away."

A corner of his lips curled up in half a smile.

"I've been thinking of quitting."

"You're… what? Why? Is Pansy being _that_ unbearable?" she scowled, wanting nothing more than to hex the hag into oblivion.

He gave her a sly smile, cocking his head and she watched as his platinum fringe brushed against his right eyebrow.

_Oh, what I wouldn't give to be able to lean forward and sweep that back..._

"Jealous, Granger?" he drawled silkily, leaning back into his chair and spreading his arms along the edge.

"Don't be ridiculous. There's nothing about that woman I envy," she answered him stiffly.

"Good. She's nothing compared to you," he smiled at her. "But that's not it."

"Then what is it?" she asked him curiously.

He paused for a moment, clearly thinking of a way to phrase himself.

"Do you plan on working for the Ministry all of your life?" he queried.

Hermione felt slightly taken aback by his question to her question.

"I… haven't given it much thought, I suppose. I mean, we're only 23."

"Precisely. Don't you want to do more with your life than sit around an office and sign paperwork? Merlin knows you've got the potential for greatness."

_Well, when he puts it **that** way..._

"Is there something _you'd_ like to do?" she asked, wanting to deflect his question for the moment.

"Yes. I'd like to become a Potions Master. Maybe even open up my own business in time," he confessed, grey eyes sparkling in excitement.

"Draco, that's great!" she exclaimed happily. "But don't you need...?"

"I took my N.E.W.T.'s the same time you did," he told her, aptly reading her mind.

"You did? I didn't see you..." she muttered, furrowing her brows.

"I didn't physically sit in with you lot. The Ministry sent a different set of examiners to the Manor that day," he explained, taking a sip of his butterbeer. "It was part of my probation, anyway."

"And?"

"Top marks," he told her cockily. "Although I'm not going to tell you the precise scores because I don't want it to become a competition between us."

Hermione frowned at him then.

"What's wrong with a little competition?" she pouted.

Draco chuckled and sat back in his chair, watching her with a twinkle in his eyes.

_Good Godric, he has the most mesmerizing smoky eyes ever._

"The problem, my dearest, is that you take it altogether too seriously."

"I most certainly do not!" she gasped, scandalized.

"You most certainly _do_, believe me," he smirked. "Pray tell, what happened the last time we indulged in some friendly competition?"

Hermione sighed and eyed him warily.

"We didn't speak for days," she replied reticently.

"No, _you_ didn't speak to _me_ for days… or have you forgotten how you refused to give up, you tenacious witch? _I_ didn't give up because I was having too much fun riling you up."

"Okay, okay… so I tend to go a little overboard sometimes," she grumbled, looking away.

Draco laughed and leaned forward, taking her hand in his.

"That's exactly why, my lioness. But I digress… so, Potions Master. What do you think?"

Hermione's heart stuttered at his pet name for her and felt her insides turn to goo at the loving tone but forced herself to pay attention to his inquiry.

"I think it's a spectacular idea, Draco! You always did excel at Potions."

"If memory serves, and it always does, it was the only class I bested you in," he grinned smugly.

"Except sixth year when Harry practically became a Potions master himself," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes.

"Has anybody told you that you roll your eyes too much? One of these days they're going to stay stuck like that," he teased her, squeezing her hand.

She blushed and resisted the urge to do it again and instead forced an amiable smile on her face.

"You're going off tangent," she told him, mustering as much cheer as possible.

"Right. So you think it's a good idea?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course I do, Draco. I may have never been paired up with you in Potions but you always got the best marks for a reason… and it wasn't because you were Snape's favorite."

"I was his favorite because I was the best. Besides, who do you think taught _me_?" he asked her haughtily.

"I should have known," Hermione laughed.

"Although I'm sure he appreciated your intelligence, considering the other students you were surrounded by," Draco snickered. "You were the best student at Potions out of all Gryffindor. Of our year, anyway."

"Yeah and not once did he ever let me forget it," she rolled her eyes, pursing her lips.

"He felt he had to knock the know-it-all down a peg or two. Besides, do you _really_ think he would have ever complimented you... or even award you points?" he smirked knowingly.

"Well... no," she admitted grudgingly.

Draco merely continued to smirk at her.

Their lunch arrived and Hermione tucked into her salad while Draco into his sandwich and chips.

"Are you going to work here much longer?" she asked him, dreading his answer.

He seemed to understand because he put his food down and gave her a tender smile.

"At least until the Ministry's annual Yule Ball. I'd like to be able to attend that with you," he winked.

"You don't have to wait that long if you don't fancy waiting that long... _I _would still work here and could always use a date," she grinned.

He simply laughed but nodded his head in acceptance.

"It would be an honor."

"Can you believe that for all the years I've worked for the Ministry, not once have I attended?"

"I actually can," he chuckled. "What did you do, then?"

"I… watched Christmas movies with Crookshanks."

He frowned at her.

"What about Weasley?"

Hermione tensed at the mention of her ex.

"What about him?" she asked through taut lips.

She felt Draco's eyes observe the action and saw him frown slightly.

"Didn't Weasley join you?"

"No, he found it boring."

"Of course he did," he mumbled, looking annoyed. "So he went to the ball by himself?"

"Yes. He was Harry and Ginny's third wheel," she snickered.

"We can do that instead, if you'd like," he offered her quietly.

_I'm surprised he hasn't asked _**_why _**_I stay home. All the better, I suppose. I'd hate to start bawling in the middle a crowded restaurant._

"No, I'd love to go with you. Besides, you'll make a fine accessory," she winked at him, finding the blush spreading across his face charming.

He sniffed and raised his chin haughtily.

"Is that all I am to you, Granger? Arm candy?"

Despite his tone, Hermione knew he was joking and she played right along.

"If you've got it, you've got it… and Malfoy, you've _definitely_ got it," she told him in a husky voice.

She looked up just in time to catch his expression. He was wide eyed as his cheeks turned rosy, mouth slightly agape. He jerked himself and composed his expression.

"I wish I could dignify your cheekiness a witty remark but I'm afraid I'd scandalize the people in our vicinity if I did," he smiled slowly at her, causing her stomach to flop around in her stomach like the bass gag gift her uncle had given her dad for his birthday.

_Seeing him smile like that is watching the moon rise into the sky._

She coughed and took a drink of her water to compose herself, wracking her brain for an answer. He watched her like a predator would his prey, folding his napkin neatly on the table.

"Well… looks like it'll have to be settled privately then," she retorted, looking away.

"Merlin, Granger… slow much?" he teased.

She pulled a face that caused him to chuckle.

"Your face is going to stay like that," he told her in a sing-song voice.

"It would serve you right," she quipped.

He blinked, a pensive look crossing his face.

"It _would_ be my punishment rather than yours," he mused.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head, observing him.

_Sweet Circe, it's so unfair how handsome he is. No wonder he's so self-involved and vain. At least he's all mine._

"See something you like, Granger?" he asked her smugly.

"Definitely," she purred.

He straightened his posture and looked startled for a second.

"Let's go," he told her in a low voice.

"What?"

"You're done, aren't you? We've still got ten minutes to spare…" he trailed off suggestively, quirking a blond brow.

Hermione felt her face burn at his implication, shooting up to her high heeled clad feet.

"Hermione!"

The voice stopped her in her tracks with Draco's scowl confirming her suspicions. Turning around slowly, she came face to face with Ron, who was giving her an appreciative look.

"Don't think too hard, Weasley, or else your brain might have an aneurysm," Draco drawled.

Hermione shot him a warning look but Ron didn't even glance at him; he was still staring at Hermione, practically drooling at the mouth.

"You look… amazing, Mio— Hermione," he told her, giving her a tentative smile.

Draco snorted and she turned to give him a mildly chastising look but turned to look back at Ron, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Is that all you wanted, Ron? To tell me how nice I look?" she asked, injecting as much patience as she could into her voice.

"Course not," he told her gruffly, shaking his head. "I was wondering if I could talk to you? Privately?"

He gave Draco a pointed 'go away' look before focusing his eyes back to her.

"There's nothing you can say to me that Draco can't hear," she told him primly.

Ron scowled and glanced at Draco before stepping closer to her. She, in turn, held out her hands before her.

"Not too close."

"Sorry," he mumbled. "Look, Hermione. I'm sorry. I was a right git and I deserved being shunned. But don't you think it's time to get over it? Maybe we could talk about it over drinks?"

"Absolutely not, Weasley. She will _not_ be going anywhere near you and alcohol. After all, you always end up making an arse out of yourself when both are involved," he smiled nastily at the redhead.

"Sod off, Malfoy! This isn't any of your business, so stick your pointy noise out of it," he hissed, glaring daggers at him. "Besides, she doesn't belong to you."

Hermione heard Draco take a deep breath, steeling himself to reply in what would undoubtedly be a deeply scathing manner and she decided to interrupt before things exploded.

"_She _is right here. I don't appreciate being spoken about like I'm not even here. But Draco has a point. You always end up making an arse out of me too and drag Draco into it too," she snapped.

"Take his side, why don't you," he grouched, looking away sulkily.

"I'm not… it's not your business, Ron! You made a decision to take yourself out of my life the day you lied to me," she fumed, gritting her teeth together.

"Not that again!" he whined, raising his arms above his head.

Hermione stilled, listening to her blood rush to her ears.

"You're a complete arse, Ronald Weasley!" she raged, resisting the urge to shove him backwards. "You're so infuriating! Can't you see the reason we didn't work out? Is our incompatibility not obvious enough? Or did those Quaffles you took to the head impede you from forming any rational thoughts?"

Draco laughed and Hermione smirked, pleased with herself.

"Do you even see yourself, Hermione? You're turning into him!" he accused, pointing at her.

"Or maybe you're too dim to realize that people change, Ronald," she told him frostily, batting his hands away. "Until you realize what an arse you're being, I refuse to talk to you. Good day."

She all but dragged a smug Draco away, stalking back to the Ministry.

"Hermione…"

She ignored him.

"Darling," he sighed.

She felt the tension slowly melt from her shoulders at his term of endearment in his mellifluous voice and slowed her gait. She glanced at the clock and pondered if she had enough time to relax with Draco.

_No, I'm sure Parkinson would be a complete bitch about it._

She heaved a sigh and turned to him, giving him a discomfited smile as they stepped into a miraculously empty lift.

"I'm sorry, Draco. He's so frustrating!"

He pressed a comforting hand on her arm and gave an affectionate squeeze.

"I don't want to badmouth Weasley and risk your ire… but I'm not sure what you saw in him in the first place, Hermione. He's disrespectful, mulish and tactless. But maybe you _do_ need to talk to him, to clear the air and end things for once and for all. It would probably be for the best if it was just the two of you although I would prefer if it happened over dinner where other people are present. I'm never going to tell you what you can or can't do so it's up to you," he told her quietly, brushing his fingers along her jaw.

"I… really, Draco? You wouldn't mind?"

He chuckled quietly but shook his head.

"I never said _that_, Granger. Don't be putting words in my mouth," he breathed, leaning down close to her.

She sputtered and blushed, any previous thoughts wiped clean from her mind.

The door to the lift opened and they were in Draco's level. He straightened and pressed a quick kiss to the tip of her nose.

"See you later, Granger," he drawled, winking at her.

She waved feebly and watched him swagger away, feeling deliciously weak in the knees.

_He's going to be the end of me. But oh, what sweet death._

Still, he managed to calm Hermione down.

She went back to her office and thought of Draco and how although their snogging has progressed, they still hadn't been any more intimate. Yes, they snogged heavily and oftentimes felt wandering hands on each other's body, rubbing against each other like randy teenagers but it never got past that. Every time Hermione tried to unbutton Draco's shirt, he'd always stop her and scaled back on the kissing, tucking her into her side and cuddling her. It left her hot and unsatisfied as hell and if she didn't often feel Draco's _Draco_ poking her thigh, she'd definitely wonder if he wasn't enjoying it as well.

_He respects me, he's demonstrated and told me as much. But why won't he take things further? He's a man, for crying out loud. He should be trying to rip my clothes off, not the other way around. Maybe I need to plan a way to seduce him… ha! I never thought there would come a day when Hermione Granger would plot to use her feminine wiles against Draco Malfoy. Then again, long ago I'd never even considered that this would be my future. But I wouldn't change it for the world. Who would have thought that he would be the one for me? My, how things change. Often for the better._

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read! Have a lovely day. :)


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: Thanks for your continued support, y'all.

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

* * *

Draco shifted the wine bottle between his hands, waiting for Hermione to come to her door. Since they'd both been loaded with work, they had decided to have a date in Hermione's flat although Draco wanted nothing more than to take her out.

"_I can't help it if I like spoiling you," he had pouted._

_Hermione blushed prettily but gave him a stern look._

"_I know I can't be the only one swamped with work. Let's save it for another day when we're not up to our eyeballs with paperwork and deadlines. Then you can take me anywhere your heart desires. I even promise not to scold you if you take me somewhere ridiculously extravagant."_

How could Draco resist such an offer? He knew a part of her felt uncomfortable that he spent money without remorse even though he could live a thousand lifetimes and still have an obscene amount of money left over in his vaults. It was nothing to him and he liked treating her to delicious meals; part of him wanted to buy her jewelry but he knew those particular gifts would be more difficult for her to accept.

Thus, Draco suggested a restaurant in Diagon Alley and Hermione rejected the idea. Before he could glare at her and demand _why, _Hermione told him that she'd love to cook dinner for them with a breathtaking smile on her face. Instead of whining, he shut his mouth and nodded although a tiny part of him wondered if she was uncomfortable being seen with him in public; especially after their disastrous first date, which had been interrupted by her detestable ex.

So there Draco was, listening to the soft padding of her feet as she approached the door. It opened not long after and there she stood, radiant as the sun. He gaped at her like an idiot, taking in her beige crochet dress, bare feet and wild curls. She beckoned for him to enter and he unfroze himself, stepping into her flat and thrusting the bottle of wine into her hands artlessly.

_Smooth, you tosser. Tell her something, anything!_

A corner of her lips curled up and nodded her head in thanks, sticking it in the icebox. He remained in the same spot, watching her as she practically glided to his side.

"Hi," he told her, swallowing thickly.

"Hey," she told him with a breathtaking timid smile.

Warmth bloomed in his chest and he grabbed Hermione's hand gently, pulling her to him. She went into his arms and before she could say anything, he lowered his lips to hers and gave her a gentle kiss. She gave a little sigh of pleasure and wound her arms around his neck as he grabbed handfuls of her curls, relishing their softness. After running out of breath, they pulled away and shared a coy smile.

"Your hair," he told her breathily, trying to get his wildly beating heart under control.

Something hardened in her eyes as she asked, "What about it?"

"It looks like it did back in school. Well, it's not as… er… fluffy but it's not as sleek as when you go to work," he said, not wanting to offend her.

"I use a little bit of Sleekeazy's for work," she admitted bashfully. "But this is my hair in all of its bushy glory."

"I love it," he smiled, gently tugging on a curl and watching it spring back into place. "I wouldn't call it bushy, though. It's glorious. I must admit I was always curious of the texture of it back in school but I valued my hands far too much to risk losing them."

She flushed but gave him a curious look.

"You're right. I would have definitely decked you. I certainly had enough reason with you mocking it."

Although her wording sounded terse, her tone was light.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I was a foolish boy and I thought that the only way to get your attention was to make fun of you," he told her contritely, looking deeply into her eyes.

She nodded slowly, tightening her grasp on him for a second.

"Wait… you wanted my attention? Is that what all of that was about?" she gawked at him.

He cleared his throat and looked away uncomfortably.

"Well, I certainly didn't realize it at the time…" he mumbled, shrugging a shoulder.

To his surprise, she giggled. He snapped his head to look at her, watching her lips spread out into a grin as the sweet sound bubbled from her throat. Before he knew it, he was chuckling softly.

"Men," she rolled her eyes.

Draco was about to make a witty retort when a bell sounded.

"Oh! Must be dinner," she smiled enticingly, pulling away from his embrace.

He immediately missed the warmth of her body but refrained from complaining. His stomach rumbled as she opened the oven and a most delicious scent wafted through her house. Draco watched her bend down, eyeing the way the hem of her skirt brushed against her thighs.

_My witch has the best legs._

He started to think how lovely they'd look wrapped around his waist but he shook his head, purging his mind from such thoughts.

"Dinner's ready," she called out to him, setting the dish down.

"Let me guess… lasagna?"

"Correct. I'm impressed," she teased, cocking her head to the side as she leaned her hip against the back of a chair.

Draco took this opportunity to really look at her. The dress fit her snugly and it had a scoop neck that emphasized her smooth collarbone and showed a tantalizing hint of cleavage. The sleeves covered the top part of her arms, falling a bit above the crook of her elbow and the hemline was a tiny bit flared. Draco was so accustomed to seeing Hermione wear heels but he enjoyed seeing her bare feet; he'd never been one to have a foot fetish but he thought that hers were pretty, bare toes and all. But best of all, while Draco might've thought that the color of her dress was boring, it made her skin glow.

"You look radiant," he told her, unable to hold himself back.

She straightened up and bestowed a smile upon him.

"You look beautiful," she told him softly.

He felt his face redden and cursed his pale complexion inwardly.

"Men aren't supposed to be beautiful," he scoffed, trying to downplay just how pleased yet staggered he felt by her compliment. "Although with my classic Malfoy good looks, I can certainly understand why you'd reach that particular conclusion."

She rolled her eyes and gave a little exasperated sigh.

"Don't discredit your Black side, though. Sirius was quite handsome in his time," she told him thoughtfully. "Plus, your mother is very beautiful."

Draco narrowed his eyes at her comment about his mother's cousin but nodded in agreement with her comment about her.

"As a child, I always thought my mother was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen," he smiled reminiscently.

Hermione gave him a gentle smile and opened her mouth to speak but closed it soon after.

"Maybe we should sit down and eat. We can converse while we eat, otherwise the food will get cold."

"Sounds good to me," he told her, moving to the sink to wash his hands.

Afterwards, he sat himself down in her table, observing the white and red tablecloth that covered it along with the simple cutlery and silverware and glasses.

"You know, I'm very surprised that your place isn't decked out in Gryffindor colors," he said, watching her as she cut the lasagna.

She chuckled and set a sizable chunk of it in his plate along with a portion of greens.

"Maybe you should see my bedroom. All of my old school paraphernalia is in there."

Draco felt his mouth go dry, wondering if her voice had really gotten husky or whether it was all his twisted imagination.

"Maybe," he mumbled, looking down at his plate.

She took the wine out and opened it, filling their wineglasses to the brim before sitting down and granting him a smile.

"I hope you like it. I'm not the best cook," she apologized endearingly.

"If it tastes as good as it smells…" he trailed off, cutting a piece and putting it in his mouth.

It was still warm and Draco chewed slowly, thoughtfully.

"It's pretty good. Way to go, Granger," he drawled, raising his glass and taking a drink.

She merely smirked and raised her own glass before taking a sip.

"So… what is one of your favorite memories of your mother as a child?" she asked him.

"Watching her primp before she and father went out to parties," he smiled fondly. "I used to love watch her brush her hair and style it. I always offered to spray her perfume for her; for all the years I've known her, she has yet to change it."

"That's sweet," she beamed at him.

A part of him bristled at being called such a thing although a larger part of him felt pleased.

"Slytherins aren't _sweet_," he said, giving her his best sneer.

"Maybe only as children, then," she laughed.

"Perhaps," he conceded, nodding his head.

"What about your favorite memory as a child?"

"How is that any different from the other question?" he raised an elegant brow.

"The fact that this question's in general one while the previous one included your mother," she answered stuffily, jutting her chin in the air.

Draco suppressed a smile and took another drink of wine to hide it.

"Ah, yes," he nodded vaguely.

"_So_?" she pressed, clenching her jaw impatiently.

"Christmas, most definitely. Waking up and running down the stairs to see all those presents under the tree while the fire roared merrily. Having mother and father sit there while I ripped wrapping paper after wrapping paper, showing them every single last gift and babbling about how I loved it. Watching the house elves decorate the drawing room and watching it get transformed into a winter wonderland."

Draco was waiting for some sort of response from Hermione but there was none. Looking up at her, he saw that she was gripping her fork tightly and that there was a faraway look in her eyes.

"Hermione?" he whispered. "Are you okay? Did I say…?"

_You fucking idiot._

"Oh, shite… I'm so sorry," he muttered softly, closing his eyes. "I didn't mean—"

"It's okay, Draco," she told him stiffly although there was kindness in her voice.

He opened his eyes and saw her taking deep breaths.

"That… room meant something important to you before…" she trailed off, looking down and pushing the lasagna around on her plate.

"It was sullied," he said quietly. "The whole house is. That's why I haven't returned. Everywhere I look I see the ghosts of—"

"Of?" she questioned, furrowing her brows.

Draco felt a lump grow in his throat while the tickling in his nose that meant he was about to cry.

_Hold it together! Are you a man or not?_

"Of the people I tortured," he answered hesitantly, feeling his body go rigid. "And the people I failed to kill."

"You mean…"

"I never killed anybody. Not surprised, are you?" he asked, feeling a stab of resent.

"No! I mean… you've never struck me as a cold-blooded killer," she told him softly. "You did what you had to do to save your family."

"It was never good enough," he lamented, dropping his eyes to the almost finished lasagna. "I've never been more than a failure. I was a failure to father and then I was a failure to… to… him."

"Your heart simply wasn't in it, Draco," she whispered soothingly.

"Yeah, not even when my family's life depended on it," he spoke harshly, glancing up at Hermione.

She leaned forward and pressed her warm hand over his, brown eyes melting with compassion. It stunned him to have her look at him with such depth and while such display would have normally angered him, he couldn't help but feel assuaged. The warmth of her hand spread to his, effectively warming his body before it finally touched his stony heart.

"Why aren't you disgusted by me?" he blurted. "Why don't you hate me when everybody else seems to?"

"I think you've suffered enough, Draco. We all have. It's just easier for them to hate you because of the choices you were forced to take. They don't know what you went through and because you weren't on our side…" she trailed off, giving his hand an affectionate squeeze.

Draco swallowed thickly to keep himself from sobbing and clutched on to Hermione's hand.

"You don't have to talk about it, Draco," she told him quickly. "I… I… I'm still not ready to talk about some things and it's completely acceptable for you to feel the same."

Draco felt as though all the blood had gone to his head and it was seconds away from exploding, all while feeling the turmoil of emotions swirling in his very soul. He sucked in a deep breath, making his throat go even drier and forced himself to swallow; it wouldn't do any good to choke.

"I never spoke to anybody, not even mother," he whispered raggedly. "I'm sure she has her own demons and I would have never burdened her with mine. Her life doesn't need to be any more difficult than it need be. She only did what she thought was best for the family and now it's going to haunt her for the rest of her life."

"The same could be said about you," she breathed, tightening her grip on his hand.

He shook his head vehemently, platinum fringe covering his eyes.

"You can confide in me, Draco. Whenever you're ready, I'm here for you," she told him passionately.

His eyes flickered to hers and stared.

"You don't need my demons, Granger. You and mother are the ones who least deserved to be burdened by my idiocy. I couldn't do that to you."

"Don't be daft, Draco! I _want_ to be burdened. You're important to me, can't you see? Don't you trust me?" she whispered despairingly.

He watched as her warm eyes flashed with hurt and Draco bit his lip as a battle between his heart and mind took place.

_Don't you trust her? She wants you to! Don't be an idiot, she wants to know what happened!_

_How is it her business, anyway? We're dating and suddenly she's nosing into my life?_

_No, no… not nosing! You know better than that. How many women do you know that are like her? None!_

"I trust you," he told her quietly.

She stood in a single motion and stalked to him, engulfing him in a fierce hug; she pressed her body against what she could of his own sitting form and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing his cheek into her chest as she rested her chin atop his head. Draco remained frozen, his brain reeling. He could _feel_ her heart pounding maddeningly against his cheek, leaving him awestruck but automatically wrapped his arms around her waist in a vice grip, burying his face between her breasts just as his body began to tremble. He fisted the back of Hermione's dress and clung to her, feeling as though he was short of air. Soon he was sobbing and Hermione held him even tighter, running her fingers through his hair and whispering comforting words all the while pressing kisses to the top of his blond head.

The sobs eventually became hiccups and Draco turned his face, nuzzling his cheek against the smooth expanse of Hermione's chest. She was still murmuring into his head and his hiccups vanished before long. He unfisted the back of Hermione's dress and splayed his fingers out on her back, loving the feel of her. He noticed that her heart picked up speed and her breathing become rapid, making Draco wonder if it was her body reacting to him. Both her breathing and heart settled down after a few seconds and Draco pulled away the tiniest bit to look up at her.

She looked back at him, eyes red rimmed and watery.

"What's wrong?" he frowned, reaching up to brush his thumb gently against the tears that had pooled in her lower lashes.

She shook her head and licked her lips, his eyes following the action.

"What is it?" he demanded, standing up and grasping her shoulders.

"You, Draco."

His heart twisted in his chest and Draco wondered if she was about to end things with him.

"You need to stop punishing yourself. What's done is done and can't be helped. But you don't have to go through this alone. I'm here for you just the same way you are here for me," she whispered, looking deeply into his pale silver orbs.

_Huh._

"It had never occurred to me that it was like that," he admitted.

"What do you mean?"

"You're right about me being there for you, but it never occurred to me that you would…"

"That I _want_ to be there for you? That I'd reciprocate willingly?"

"Well, yes... and yes. Which surprises me because I would normally expect people to want something from me when they do something _for _me," he said, a crease appearing between his pale brows.

"We're in a relationship. It's what one does. Not what you just said, though. I meant about reciprocating," she cleared up, looking momentarily distraught that he might misunderstand her.

"We're in a relationship?"

She stared at him with wide eyes and pink cheeks, mouth slightly open.

"A-aren't we? I mean, we've been seeing other exclusively… hang on, _are_ we seeing each other exclusively?" she eyed him warily. "Because I assumed you telling me to be yours in Rome meant that we were together..."

He grinned at her despite the exhaustion he felt.

"My, my… quite the jealous one, are we? Got a taste of something you liked, Granger?" he asked silkily, rubbing his thumb in circles against Hermione's shoulders.

To his delight all she could do was sputter indignantly.

"Only teasing, love," he purred into her ear. "Of course we're exclusive. There's nobody I want but you. My impatient lioness, couldn't you have waited for me to ask you formally? But now that you've put it out there… I suppose we're in a relationship."

Hermione's mouth hung open and Draco couldn't help but grin impishly.

"You… you… you…"

"Yes," he smiled lazily. "Me."

Before she could protest, he crashed his lips against hers and gave her a snog. She resisted at first but after he nipped her lip Hermione all but melted into his embrace and lips. He buried one of his hands into her tresses while the other rested dangerously close to her lower back. Draco wanted nothing more than to reach down a bit lower and squeeze but knew it would quickly get out of hand.

_Reminds me of that wonderful snogging after I picked her up from having drinks with Red. Of course, I'm sure that's the main reason why it happened: because she was drunk. Still, that hasn't stopped her from having a case of wandering hands; not that I mind in the least. She obviously wants me, so why am I desisting so much? Shouldn't I have jumped at the opportunity to bed her? Silly Draco… you know what you feel for her goes deeper than a simple shag. Hard as I've been trying, I can't stop loving her. I love her and because I love her, I want to be able to deserve everything she gives to me. I'm not sure I've quite earned the right to…_

Hermione pressed one of her hands against his chest directly over his heart before slowly sliding it down, causing Draco to shiver; her other hand was tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck. He pressed their bodies closer together, relishing the feel of her body so close to his and feeling the need to absorb her into his own. After the kiss could grow no hotter, Draco pulled away, gasping.

"Hermione."

"Draco."

He pressed his forehead against hers, their breath fanning against the other's face. Several minutes later, she pulled away slightly and Draco opened his eyes.

"Dessert?" she smiled.

"Yes, please."

She pressed a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away to open her fridge.

"So, I was slightly surprised not to see you go back to Hogwarts after the war ended," she told him conversationally, as though they hadn't been snogging the breath out of each other just minutes before.

He smirked but concentrated on her question, flopping down elegantly into the chair.

"I'm not surprised you went back."

"Minerva offered me the position Head Girl, a title I'd salivated after for _years_. How could I not?" she grinned, shrugging.

Draco chuckled quietly.

"Harry and Ron didn't go back, of course. It was only Ginny and me. I must admit that I struggled, at first," she admitted softly.

"You were the Golden Girl, the War Heroine and Head Girl, what hardships could _you_ have had?" Draco snorted faintly.

She gave him a sharp look over her dessert.

"I'll have you know that I couldn't sleep. Being away from Ron and Harry had been difficult enough but I was plagued with nightmares about losing them and my parents. I invested _all_ of my energy and time into classes but even so I was quieter. I think you would have appreciated it," she smirked.

"I don't know about that," he mused. "I think we all became a little, or a lot, withdrawn. But I'm sure you were a sight to behold."

"There wasn't a lot of us, anyway," she shrugged. "Ginny practically live in the Head's common room although I'm not sure Anthony liked it very much."

Her tone piqued Draco's attention.

"Someone didn't like Red? That's new," he told her wryly.

Hermione chortled appreciatively at the nickname and Draco flashed a grin at her.

"I think… Anthony might have fancied me," she blushed, avoiding Draco's eyes. "At least that's what Ginny said. So since she was Ron's sister… enmity by association."

"_Goldstein_ fancied you?"

_That bloody bastard! He better not have taken any liberties with my witch._

Her face turned ruby red at his query.

"Is there something wrong with that? Am I not fanciable material?" she asked imperiously.

"You are, very much so," Draco hastened to reassure her. "I mean, if the great Draco Malfoy likes you…"

Hermione's face lost her sharpness and she smiled despite his haughty tone.

"So why did Red think he fancied you?"

"He kept asking me to go to Hogsmeade with him. And to study at the library," Hermione answered, looking down at her empty plate.

Draco felt his eyebrows rise up on his forehead.

"He most definitely wanted into your knickers. I'm glad you had someone there, even if it was a Weasley," he made a face before drinking the last of his wine.

Hermione scowled at him.

"Don't be so crass, Malfoy."

"Just telling the truth, lioness," he shrugged easily.

She eyed him cautiously.

"But you would know about trying to get into knickers, wouldn't you? You had quite a… colorful reputation," she grinned.

"Not jealous, I hope?" he smirked.

She scoffed in response and gestured for him to answer her.

"As much as I would love to say that every rumor was true… it wasn't. I'm a Malfoy, not the house broomstick," he drawled, swirling the dregs of the wine.

Hermione only harrumphed in response.

"Doubtful, pet?"

"They didn't give you that nickname for nothing, I'm sure," Hermione insisted stubbornly.

Draco furrowed his brows, pretending to think.

"'Slytherin Prince'?" he grinned innocently.

She stared at him, clearly not amused.

"Ah, yes… the other one."

_Come on, say it. I want to hear you say it, Granger. Be a brave little Gryffindor and say it, love._

She coughed and looked away, clearly abashed. Which only served to endear her to Draco even more.

"_Slytherin Sex God_."

"You called?" he smirked coquettishly.

To his surprise, she looked at him with half-lidded eyes that sparkled with desire.

"Looks like I'll have to find out for myself, won't I?" she asked huskily, a corner of her lip curling seductively.

_Oh, Merlin… I sure hope so._

* * *

Thanks like always for taking the time to read and see you next week. :)


	33. Chapter 33

Disclaimer: HP and co. don't belong to me.

* * *

After giving the matter plenty consideration, Hermione decided to go ahead and have dinner with Ron. Part of her was hesitant because she wasn't sure whether there was anything left to say between the two of them or if there were words that could mend their friendship. Plenty of hurtful things had been said but she knew he wouldn't give up until she'd tell him yes; the Weasley tenacity was legendary, after all.

Hermione, however, told him that although she'd accepted his dinner offer she would be the one to choose the location; needless to say, Ron agreed. So she told him to dress casually and meet at The Leaky Cauldron at six sharp.

_I don't want him to get carried away and think he has a chance to get back with me. Better make this as casual as possible and that includes dinner too. Nothing overly romantic lest it gives him the wrong idea. Draco was hesitant enough and I don't need things with Ron to become complicated any further. Hopefully tonight he'll tell me what he needs to and get it out of his system altogether._

So Hermione dressed herself in a pair of slouchy, yet still form flattering denim jeans, cuffing the hem twice. She settled on a simple, rounded collar shirt and threw on an ochre cardigan, leaving it unbuttoned for maximum casualness. For her feet, Hermione decided on a pair of brown strappy wedges, not wanting to wear trainers or heels. Finally, she threw her curls up into a messy bun atop her head and watched several tumble out messily and smiled. Dabbing some gloss on, she spritzed her perfume, gathered her purse and looked at the time; it was nearly 6pm.

As she Floo'd herself to The Leaky Cauldron, Hermione couldn't help but feel the thrum of nervous energy under her skin.

_What if Ron doesn't listen to what I have to say? What if he remains adamant about giving a relationship another try? I don't want to hurt him any more than I have to. Despite it all, I'd really like for us to be friends again and I know that's not going to be an easy task._

Brushing soot off her shoulders and climbing out of the fireplace awkwardly, Hermione spotted Ron right away. He was impossible to overlook with his mop of bright red hair. He spotted her and broke out in a smile, one Hermione was hesitant to return. He made his way towards her, looking at her appreciatively and Hermione couldn't help but blush.

"Hermione, you look… amazing," he grinned, looking slightly awestruck.

"Thank you, Ron. You look nice too," she smiled politely, giving her head a nod.

He mumbled his thanks, ears turning a fierce maroon.

"So, where are we off to? Is there any particular reason why we're wearing Muggle clothing?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I thought we could dine in Muggle London," she shrugged, making her way toward the door.

"Wait, what? _Muggle_ London?" he gasped, following after her.

She whirled abruptly, almost causing for Ron to walk into her.

"Problem?" she asked coolly, quirking a brow.

His face turned red as he shook his head.

"Not at all! I just wasn't sure where we were going but now that I think about it, it should have been obvious," he muttered, looking down at his simple attire.

"You sound anxious," she observed amusingly.

He scowled at her though the red had yet to recede from his cheeks.

"Right. Well, I know a wonderful place. Come on," she told him, signaling for him to follow her.

They ventured out into the crowded streets with Ron often lagging behind to gape at their surroundings. Hermione would then frown at him and wished that she could put some sort of leash on him to keep him from straying. After the third time, she gingerly grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward, trying not to look at his face. To her relief, he didn't attempt to make conversation because she felt tense enough as it was.

Finally reaching their destination, Hermione dropped his wrist and stepped into the establishment, letting the scent of food fill her. She glanced at Ron, who was looking around in mild bewilderment and was relieved when they were ushered into a table at the back.

"So…" Ron started, undoubtedly trying to capture her attention.

"So," she repeated, giving him a thin smile.

"How are you?" he asked her, fidgeting with the menu.

"I'm good. Busy with—"

"Work, I know," he grinned. "Some things never change."

She gave him a brief smile and wondered when he'd move past small talk to say what he clearly was bursting to say.

"How about you?" she inquired civilly.

He made a vague motion with his hands and Hermione couldn't help but grin.

_He really must be nervous. I suppose I can't blame him._

"I want to preface this by apologizing," he told her grimly, blue eyes staring into hers.

She raised a brow but remained quiet.

"I was an utter git to just start accosting and insulting you. You deserve better than that."

"That means a lot, Ron, thank you."

"That said, I think you're making a big mistake dating Malfoy. He doesn't deserve you, Mio… Hermione," he told her seriously. "Have you so easily forgotten what a bastard he was to us back in school? People don't just change personalities, considering how foul he used to be."

"While I appreciate your concern, Ron, I fail to see how it's any of your business what I do or don't do with him," she shrugged, catching the eyes of the waitress.

She smiled and took their food and drink orders, leaving them alone once more.

"It's plenty of my business! I care about you, Hermione. No, scratch that… I love you," he told her fervently.

Hermione felt uncomfortable with the intensity of his gaze and looked down.

"I love you too, Ron."

"What's the problem then?" he huffed.

"I don't love you the way you want me to," she told him softly, looking into his bright eyes.

_To think that one look into those baby blues would once send my heart pounding. All I feel now is regret and loss._

He frowned at her but shook his head obstinately.

"You just haven't thought about the possibility that you still might love me too. Especially since you've been hanging around with the likes of that ferret," he told her bitterly.

Hermione bit her lip and watched him for a few seconds, hesitating about how truthful she should be with him.

"You're right. I haven't really given myself a chance to think about it."

His face broke out in a smile, crushing Hermione's heart a little bit.

"You should, Hermione. I… I miss you. So much. There are times when something at work goes right and my first instinct is to tell you. Except that I remember that you're not…" he trailed off, infinite sadness etched upon his freckled face.

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat and blinked madly to stop any tears from falling.

"Ron," she told him softly. "There's nothing you can't tell me. Just because we're not together doesn't mean I won't be happy for you or support you in your endeavors."

He swallowed thickly and looked at her despairingly.

"But I _want_ us to be together," he told her stubbornly.

Hermione heaved a sigh and smiled at their waitress when she brought them their drinks.

"Why, Ron? Why are you so desperate to be with me?" she asked him quietly. "I need to understand."

The despair melted off his face and another emotion took over. Something that made Hermione's heart hurt: hope.

"Mind you, I'm not saying you're going to change my mind but I just want to know what's going through that brain of yours to make you so… relentless," she added, not wanting to crush him anymore than she already had.

His lips curled downward with distaste but he shook his head, hope flickering from his eyes.

"I _love_ you, Hermione. I know I was a right coward never saying anything until _you_ had the bollocks to kiss me," he said, grinning suddenly. "I think… you were my first love. There'd been nobody serious in my life, aside from that... dalliance with Lavender."

Hermione scowled, remembering her suffering in those dark times.

"I'd always known you were special, even if I never said it out loud. I know we bickered a lot and I teased you but it was because I didn't know any other way than to let you know that I cared about you," he mused, running his fingertip along the rim of the glass. "I had my suspicions about the way I felt when I saw you with Krum at the Yule Ball; still, I chalked it up that it was nothing more because _you_ were hanging out with my favorite Quidditch player. But then, in sixth year… you went out with McLaggen, that prat. I felt hurt and confused because I thought you were going to ask me to be your date."

"I suppose I was trying to make you jealous," Hermione admitted grudgingly.

Ron narrowed his eyes and tilted his head curiously.

"But _why_?"

"Because I wanted you to feel what I did when I saw you with Lavender, you numpty!" Hermione snapped.

Despite her tone, Ron chuckled and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"See? You cared for me too," he told her smugly.

"It… it was more than that. I… er, fancied myself in love with you," she blushed, looking away from his face.

"Oh."

"But that's neither here nor there, Ron," she sighed, gathering her wits to look at him again.

"I s'pose so," he sighed as well.

Their food arrived and they tucked in, uncomfortable silence surrounding them for a few minutes.

"I was an idiot to propose to you when I did, Hermione. There was no doubt in my mind about making you my wife, but seeing your attitude towards Malfoy sped things up a bit," he scowled, as though saying the name left him with a bad taste in his mouth. "I mean, Mum had been pressuring me too."

Hermione stopped in mid bite.

"She… did?"

"Yes," he chuckled. "Kept going on about how there would only be so much time you would wait and although she loved me, she wouldn't blame you if you walked out."

_How can he sound so… blasé?_

"So those two reasons were the only ones why you proposed to me?"

He fidgeted for a moment, avoiding her eyes.

"Er, yes."

"Tell me, Ron… had we gotten married, what would you have expected from me?"

"To have children, of course. Take care of our home," he told her easily, shrugging.

Hermione resisted the urge to glare at him.

"Is that all you wanted for me? To settle down and be your little wife?" she asked, gritting her teeth.

"Well, I _suppose_ you could have continued working… at least until you got pregnant, of course. Then I would have expected you to quit and to settle down like Mum did."

Hermione clenched her jaw even tighter.

"What about what _I_ would have wanted, Ron?" she asked tightly.

He furrowed his brow, as though the thought hadn't occurred to him.

"Isn't that what you would have wanted?" he asked her densely, cocking his head.

She barely held back a frustrated growl.

"I would have wanted children and I would have most certainly taken time off work to spend time with them. But… I couldn't have just _quit_ my job. Not after working as hard and diligently as I have to get where I am now."

To her exasperation, Ron rolled his eyes.

"Oh, Mione. That's so idealistic of you," he chuckled thoughtlessly. "But you have to be real here. There would have been expectations of you as my wife and I _know_ you wouldn't have let me down."

She saw red for a moment and almost didn't hold her tongue back in time, instead enjoying watching him struggle with his chopsticks.

"I couldn't have done that," she told him after a long silence.

He looked up at her and frowned.

"That's why it would be a bad idea for us to ever be together again. You expect something of me and I'm simply unwilling to throw all of my hard work out just to play the role of your happy and satisfied housewife."

"There's nothing wrong with being a housewife! Look at Mum," he snapped.

Hermione gasped as something clicked in her mind.

"Did you… had you expected us to have as many children?"

"Why not? Despite being the youngest son, it was nice having a full house."

_Even when there were times your parents struggled to make ends meet?_

But Hermione would never throw something like that in his face, no matter how much he exasperated her and continued to gape at him instead.

"I… it never crossed my mind to have any more than two children, three at most," she told him seriously.

Ron rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, as though he thought little of her feelings which served to further Hermione's anger.

In that moment, she couldn't help but compare Ron to Draco and realized just how different the two men were.

_Like night and day, as trite as it may sound._

"You're thinking of him, aren't you?" he asked her quietly.

She looked up into his eyes, surprised at his perception.

"Yes."

"What do you see in him, Hermione?" he groaned, looking disgusted. "Is it the money?"

Hermione glared daggers at him.

"Ronald Weasley, how _dare_ you suggest such a thing?" she hissed, stabbing her dumpling in her agitation.

He paled for a moment before scoffing.

"What is it, then? Surely you can't find him… attractive?" he asked, appearing revolted at the very idea.

Hermione sighed wearily and gave Ron a look.

"He's a very handsome man, Ron," she told him neutrally.

"He looks like a bloody ferret!"

"He does _not_. He's definitely grown into his looks."

Ron gagged loudly, causing patrons to look in their direction.

"Ronald! Behave yourself," she snapped.

"But Hermione," he whined. "I refuse to lose you to him."

"I'm hardly a prize, Ronald," she sniffed indignantly.

"Look, Hermione. Men like Malfoy have women on the side and I'd hate to see you get hurt by the scumbag. It won't be long before he tires of you and moves on to the next twit."

Hermione puffed up in anger.

"What are you suggesting, Ronald?" she asked silkily, narrowing her eyes at him. "Are you saying I'm not interesting or beautiful enough to capture his attention? Are you calling him a cheater? Or are you suggesting that I'm not good enough for him?"

Ron gaped at her like a fish, going even paler.

"I want to be your friend, Ron, I really do. But at the moment, I'm having trouble remembering _why_. You were my first... _everything_ and I'll always remember the good times we had together but that's it. I'd love nothing more than to tell you that I'll think about it but there's nothing to think about because I don't feel the same way anymore. I'm truly sorry to hurt you, but in my defense, you shouldn't have asked me to marry you in a moment of jealousy and insecurity. While I'll always value your opinion, there's nothing you can say to dissuade me from seeing whomever I damn well please."

"Hermione, you're not _seriously_ throwing everything away for him?" he growled, crossing his arms.

Hermione felt something in her snap.

"I shouldn't have accepted your proposal," she told him quietly, looking at him in the eye. "I loved you, yes, and I wanted to be with you but it wouldn't have been enough in the long run. We were both so lost after the war that we clung to each other to alleviate one another's pain. Don't get me wrong, I was happy with you but I wondered if that was it; if that was the life I was destined to live and part of me couldn't help but feel disappointed. As the years passed, I made do and settled. But then… I ran into Draco."

Ron was so pale that Hermione could see each and every single one of his freckles, his blue eyes blazing with hurt and bitterness.

"Is that why you ultimately decided to leave me, Hermione? For him?" he croaked.

"No, I didn't leave you for him, Ron. Though… things certainly had a way of working out," she chuckled softly.

"Please tell me you don't love him," he pleaded.

"I don't, Ron. Not yet, anyway. But I really care for him and I'd like to see where our relationship is headed," she answered honestly.

"Would you… would you marry him?" he whispered dishearteningly.

Hermione swallowed thickly and ignored the pesky butterflies in her stomach.

"I don't know, Ron…" she told him hesitantly. "There's still a lot we have yet to learn about each other."

He nodded slowly, looking somewhat appeased.

"I do love spending time with him, though," she told him honestly. "He's so brilliant but also surprisingly quiet, although I suspect it's because of the time he spent isolated."

Ron simply rolled his eyes.

"Poor little rich boy," he muttered under his breath.

"You're never going to accept him, are you?" she asked him resignedly.

"Never," he told her resolutely.

Hermione nodded slowly and ate the last of her dinner.

"I hate to do this to you, Hermione… but it's either him or me."

She gasped and stared at him, feeling her mouth hang open.

"_What_?"

"It's him or me. Make your choice."

Hermione felt the anger and frustration in her veins bubble over.

"You… have got to be the _most_ selfish, tactless, stubborn person I've ever had the misfortune to meet!" she seethed, reaching into her bag and pulling money out. "What's _wrong_ with you, Ronald Weasley? If you love me as you claim to, you wouldn't be forcing my hand with such asinine questions!"

She slapped the money on the table with much more force than was needed and stood up, glowering down at him.

"I choose my happiness," she hissed at him. "I'm sure you'll be able to find your way back."

That said, she strode away with as much dignity as she could muster before ducking into an empty alley and Apparated to the first place her mind thought of.

Moments later she was pitifully knocking on Draco's door, attempting to stem her tears and quiet her sobs. He opened the door and stared at her for half a second before gently ushering her in.

"What happened, Hermione?" he asked worriedly, gently grasping her shoulders and peering into her eyes.

"It was futile," she sobbed against the back of her hand. "He kept going on about how much he loved me yet seemed absolutely blind to what I was telling him. I'm not surprised but it hurt all the same."

Draco grimaced and squeezed her shoulders tightly before pulling Hermione to him in a fierce hug.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he whispered into her hair.

"It had to be done."

"I could have gone with you."

"And what? Have you two hex each other? I think not," she laughed hollowly.

Hermione felt him squeeze her and felt instantly soothed. She gulped in air and urged herself to get a grip; she'd loathe for Draco to get the wrong idea of her tears.

"He told me to choose between you and him," she told him reluctantly.

She felt him stiffen underneath her and pulled away ever so slightly to look at her. His expression was blank with the exception of his eyes; they were smoldering and bright despite the worry in them.

"Oh?" he murmured.

"I told him I choose my happiness," she told him meaningfully.

His face remained impassive for a moment before breaking out in sweet relief, lips curling upwards in elation. That didn't last long before a look of hesitation crossed his handsome face.

"You've been friends for ages," he told her quietly. "I don't want to—"

"Draco, he made his choice and seemed to have no qualm about it," she interrupted, giving him an apologetic look. "Why should _I_ give up my happiness to sate his selfishness? It's just not fair!"

He let out a little sigh of relief and nodded, crushing her against his chest in a hug.

"Besides, if he truly loved me as he claims to, he would accept my choice. I'm not asking him to become your bosom buddy or force him to spend time with you. I just want him to understand," she sighed tiredly.

"Might be a long time until that happens," Draco whispered against her hairline.

"Then that's on him. I've said my piece and if he refuses to understand then it's not my problem," she told him stiffly.

"I'm sorry."

Hermione pulled away from Draco's arms and gave him an odd look.

"Why are you sorry?" she frowned.

"For causing all this unnecessary havoc in your life."

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco," she chastised him gently. "Spending time with you these past few months has made me feel more normal than I have in the last five years."

"Really?"

She smiled and raised her hand to cup his jaw, brushing her thumb against his cheek.

"Really," she assured him.

He gave her a boyish smile that made her heart swell. His scorching eyes flickered down her face and body before settling on her eyes again.

"You look stunning," he breathed, stepping closer to her.

Hermione's heart slammed against her rib cage and was about to return the compliment, despite not paying attention to his clothes, when he pressed his lips against hers in a fiery kiss. She sighed, looping her arms around his neck and pressing herself closer, needing his warmth. Hermione swiped her tongue against his bottom lip and he groaned, pulling away slightly.

"Hermione, wait," he gasped, pressing his forehead against hers.

"What is it?" she whispered breathlessly.

"I need to give you something. Wait here," he told her, untangling himself from her arms.

She watched him walk away but he was back before long. He stood at arm's length away from her and fidgeted, holding a rolled up piece of parchment in his hand.

"Is that for me?" she asked inquisitively.

Despite looking a little paler than usual, he managed to quirk a little smile at her.

"Yes."

"Oh."

She eyed it, wondering could possibly be written in there. He gulped nervously and stretched his hand out hesitantly, nibbling on his lower lip. She found his apprehension endearing and held her hand out expectantly. He gripped the parchment tightly, creating an indent in the paper; his hand lingered above hers for a second before placing the parchment in her hand.

"What is it?" she asked slowly, looking into his eyes.

To her frustration, he remained quiet and only motioned for her to open it. She gave him a curious look before slowly unfurling the parchment, noticing the length of it. It was written in Draco's elegant script and seemed to be a list of sorts. Her eyes caught the word 'Mudblood' several times over and Hermione glanced through the list, realization dawning on her. She stared up at him with wide eyes while he looked back at her somberly.

"I know I've apologized already but… now that we're in an official relationship I just wanted to formally apologize for all the foul things I ever uttered to you, Hermione," he told her softly, eyes burning into her own.

She glanced down at the parchment once more, partly in awe.

"You remember every single insult you told me?"

Despite the serious atmosphere, Draco chuckled.

"Of all the things, _that's_ what you ask?"

Hermione blushed and looked down.

"It was impossible not to forget. I clearly remember the anger and frustration I felt at being faced with you," he told her earnestly, brushing his thumb across her jaw. "You were so bright and kind and everything father had warned against. I couldn't come to terms that you were the one of _loathsome creatures _they told me stories about as a child."

Hermione shivered at his touch but couldn't help but frown.

"Stories? What do you mean?"

He sighed and his shoulders drooped.

"It usually went along the lines of _behave, lest you want the Muggleborns to snatch you and eat you_ type of thing," he told her, looking ashamed.

"Huh."

"It was ridiculous but it was something I grew up with…" he looked away uneasily, dropping his hand.

"Draco, I don't blame you for whatever prejudices you had as a child. It's not your fault you grew up listening to slander from the person you admired the most," she told him quietly, taking his hand in hers and squeezing.

"You're so strong, so brave," he whispered, turning to look at her again. "Everything I would have given to be."

"No better time than the present," she told him, giving him a smile.

He stared at her fixedly before nodding and giving her hand a squeeze.

"I think I might be ready soon," he told her, raising his brows significantly at her.

"And I'll be here for you," she told him warmly, rising to her tiptoes to press a kiss on his forehead.

He looked stunned before color flooded his cheeks, giving her a bashful smile.

_Oh, Draco… if I'm not careful, I'm very much at risk of falling in love with you._

* * *

Thanks for reading, y'all! :)


	34. Chapter 34

Disclaimer: It's not mine. Well, just the plot. But Harry Potter et all belongs to J.K. Rowling

* * *

After Hermione had left, Draco sat down and stared at the flames in his fireplace.

_Weasley's such an egotistic bastard. How _**_dare _**_he make her choose between us? Doesn't he know the pain he's putting her through? Yet another reason why he's never deserved her. _**_I _**_would never force her hand like that. Then again, if I were in his place…_

Draco scowled and shook his head vehemently to shake off his thoughts.

"I'm not Weasley. Besides, she chose me."

A stupid grin took over his face and felt as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

_Of course, she'll only stay with me as long as I continue to be her happiness._

A frown marred Draco's pale features and he sighed forlornly.

"I wonder what else they spoke about…" he mused, reclining against the couch. "She was wearing Muggle clothing… wait. _Why_ was she wearing Muggle clothing? Is it possible…? No, she wouldn't… would she? Why would she need to venture into Muggle London to simply speak to Weasley?"

Something that felt like jealousy blossomed in Draco's chest and he glowered at nothing in particular. He rose in a fluid motion and grabbed a spare bit of parchment, Accio-ing his quill and ink well. He wrote quickly before sending it off with Gaia, his owl. He watched her fly off into the night, still reeling with envy and confusion.

Monday morning, Draco spent more time dressing himself even more carefully than usual and making sure that not one hair was out of place. He dressed in his customary black but chose a midnight blue tie that made his eyes look dark blue rather than their usual grey. He smirked with satisfaction before grabbing his things and Apparated to the Ministry, chanting words of encouragement to himself in order to ignore Pansy and her advances.

_Has she no dignity? Does she not see I'm not interested in her? I really wish she'd stop throwing herself at me. We used to be good friends and I'd hate to have whatever semblance of friendship we have ruined because she couldn't keep it in her pants._

He chuckled at the expression, having heard Hermione utter it once. He'd been curious and asked her what it meant and she explained, blushing.

_These Muggles and their odd expressions._

He also recalled when she told him the one about 'when pigs fly.' It had confused him at first, telling her that with a simple levitation charm they'd be able to. To his amusement, she got in lecture mode and proceeded to explain to him succinctly why pigs don't fly (at least not according to Muggles). While such a thing would have bothered him back when he was a child, it just made him love her even more.

_Merlin, I love her. I thought I could simply not but the more time I've spent with her… it's impossible. It's obvious she cares for me but I don't think she's quite at 'love' with me. No problem, I'll be happy waiting until she gets there too._

To his relief, Pansy had yet to arrive and so Draco settled down and brewed coffee, letting the scent invigorate him. He had his back to the door when he heard footsteps coming his way. They weren't the usual _click click_ of Pansy's heels, but rather heavy stomps. Curious, he turned just in time to see Weasley swing his fist at him, his blow landing with a loud _crack_ against his jaw. Draco staggered back, scowling at the intruder.

"You bastard!" Weasley snarled at him, following him.

"What the buggering hell, you maniac!" Draco hissed, tenderly cupping his jaw.

"That's for Hermione!"

_Bastard! Catching me unaware. 'Constant vigilance' as that _**_other _**_maniac would have said._

"I don't think she needs the likes of you to defend her, Weasley."

"Oh, yeah? She definitely needs to be defended from you, scum! What have you told her to have her eating out of the palm of her hand? Have you given her a potion? Bewitched her, perhaps? Amortentia!" he gasped, stepping backwards.

Draco rolled his eyes and barked out a laugh.

"Aren't you delusional, Weasley? You'd rather think of the most outlandish scenarios to keep yourself from realizing that she's with me because she _wants_ to be," Draco smirked, dodging another blow.

_Damn it. I refuse to get in trouble because of this buffoon! But what else can I do aside from dodge his meaty fists?_

He snarled and threw himself at Draco, causing them to topple down to the floor. Weasley quickly straddled him, landing several blows on his face. Draco finally managed to buck him off, feeling disgusted at being touched in such a manner, no matter how violent, by Weasley.

_By Salazar. If we weren't attacking each other I'd make a quip about the speed of Weasley jumping on top of me. If he hadn't dated Hermione for several years, I sure would have wondered._

"What, scared to fight back, Malfoy?" he taunted. "Scared that you'll stop being the Ministry's poster boy for reformed Death Eaters?"

Draco felt his anger burst and swung at his face, feeling satisfied when his knuckles landed on his cheek.

"I'd liked to have seen you fare out better than me, you arsehole!"

By this time, Draco could hear everybody in the department gathered outside his office, gossiping although nobody _actually_ attempted to intervene.

_Probably betting about who goes down first. Blast it all to the underworld! Why couldn't I have been more proficient in hand to hand fighting? At least Weasley was the one who swung first._

"You started this, Weasley," Draco growled, landing another blow against the man's nose. "I'm sure even your mother told you not to start something you couldn't finish."

He heard a telltale _crack_ and grinned when Weasley let out a howl of pain.

"Don't you dare talk about my mother, you bastard! At least _mine_ didn't marry—"

Draco roared and grabbed Weasley by the lapel of his robes, shaking him violently.

"Don't you _dare_ have a go at my mother! You know _nothing_ of what she's been through!"

"Don't _you_ have a go at my mum! She's far more—"

But what Weasley's mother was more of, Draco didn't have a chance to find out because he swung at his mouth once more, causing him to stagger back. Weasley looked dazed for a second before he charged towards Draco, tackling him to the floor; he rose a second after and began to kicking brutally at his ribs.

"You think this hurts, you idiot? I've been through much worse pain!" Draco wheezed, trying to suck in air through his nose.

"Once… a Death… Eater… always… a… Death… Eater!" Weasley shouted, punctuating each word with a kick.

_Fuck fuck fuck. I cannot pass out. I _**_must _**_not pass out! I command myself not to pass out!_

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a familiar voice call his name along with the _click_ _click_ of heels and groaned, thinking Pansy had finally arrived.

"'bout bloody time," he grumbled before passing out.

Hours later, Draco started to feel his brain grow a little fuzzy. He groaned, trying to shift his position on the extremely uncomfortable bed.

"Draco?" the voice simpered.

_Great, it's Pansy._

He grunted and felt clammy hands touch his face. He snapped his eyes open and glared as fiercely as he could in his state at her.

"_Don't touch me!_" he hissed, wanting nothing more than to recoil from her hands.

"I'm so sorry, Draco! I can't believe nobody else bothered to stop you! More so, I can't believe Weasley _dared_ to get his filthy hands on you! I could have killed him!"

Draco tried to roll his eyes but felt pain with the slightest of movement.

"Where am I?"

"St. Mungo's."

"Has… anybody else come?" he asked, hoping he doesn't sound too pathetic.

Pansy scoffed and stood, rolling her eyes.

"If you're referring to Granger, no. She hasn't stopped by. She's probably tending to Weasley's wounds," she spoke acidly.

Despite himself, Draco couldn't help the uncertainty that bloomed in his chest at her words.

"She… wouldn't."

"Then _where_ is she? _Why_ isn't she here?" she demanded, glaring at him.

Draco sighed, wincing at the pain.

"Must be busy with work, then," he told her in a clipped tone.

"Busy kissing Weasley's boo-boos more like," she sneered, crossing her arms.

Draco's chest literally ached at the thought of such a thing and forced himself to keep quiet. Pansy opened her mouth to speak before the door banged open and in strode Hermione, looking disheveled and perturbed.

"Draco!"

Despite being glad to see her, he couldn't help but feel hurt that she hadn't been there when he'd come to.

"Granger," he told her coolly.

She frowned at the tone of his voice and came to a stop at the foot of the bed. She turned to Pansy, who was giving her a look that wished nothing but the worst of pain for her. Hermione simply raised a brow and stuck her chin out, straightening her posture.

"What are you still doing here, Parkinson?"

"Taking care of Draco."

"Well, I'm his girlfriend and now that I'm here, your presence isn't required anymore," she told her haughtily.

Draco couldn't help but feel proud of his witch but forced his face to remain impassive.

Pansy hissed at her but sauntered closer to Draco, leaning down slowly as to give him a good view of her cleavage before pressing a suggestive kiss on his cheek. Draco stiffened and wanted nothing more than for her to get off of him. She finally did, leaving behind the stench of her perfume.

"Later, Draco," she winked before slinking out.

But he didn't watch her go and focused on watching Hermione observe him. As soon as the door shut close, she slumped and closed her eyes; for a moment Draco worried that she might faint but she shook herself and turned to him.

"Are you… are you mad at me?" she asked meekly.

He scoffed and forced himself to look away from her.

"What gives you such preposterous idea?"

"Well, the fact that you can barely stand to look at me, for one," she told him quietly.

Shame burned through his veins but still refused to look at her.

_Stop being such a petulant git. She's here now, isn't she?_

_Yeah, after being Salazar-knows-where…_

Upon realizing that she wasn't going to get a straight answer from Draco she sighed, taking a hesitant step forward before stepping away fully.

"I just needed to see you with your eyes open," she whispered, sounding immensely relieved. "But you don't seem to want my company, so I'll be taking leave."

Regret ached in his bones but her words caught his attention.

"You needed to see me with my eyes open?" he questioned, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"Yes," she heaved a sigh so deep he might have drowned in it. "I came by during lunch time but you were still unconscious."

He turned to look at her fully, eyeing her suspiciously.

"You were here during your lunch hour?"

She nodded and as though to make a point, her stomach growled. She clapped her hands over it, turning a delightful shade of pink.

Draco immediately felt like the biggest arse and swallowed thickly.

"You haven't eaten?" he asked her softly.

"Haven't had the time," she grimaced, looking away.

Draco's heart fluttered like the wings of a Snitch and let out a deep breath.

"I'm sorry."

She turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief.

"You're sorry?"

He nodded contritely.

"You're sorry… _you_ _are_ _sorry_!" she cried out in a strangled voice, screwing her eyes shut.

"Hermione?"

Her eyes snapped open and to his surprise, she started to cry. He felt even more useless than usual, wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms but only able to watch as tears streamed down her face.

"I'm the one who's sorry, Draco! If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be here," she wept, pressing the back of her hand against her cheek.

"Hermione, please… don't do that to yourself," he pleaded, not caring one whit how pathetic he sounded.

She sobbed a couple of more times before managing to get a hold of herself.

"Then I come in and see you with that cow! Maybe you would have preferred her company instead of mine," she whimpered, looking away.

Draco blushed and scolded himself for being an idiot.

"Hermione, _please_. That's not true at all. I was just…" he trailed off, frowning.

She sniffled and looked at him, brown eyes shiny but warm with affection.

"Pansy suggested that you were with Weasley and I…"

"You got jealous?"

Draco nodded slowly, licking his lips.

"May I… may I come closer?" she asked timidly.

"I'd like nothing more."

She gave him a breathtaking smile before slowly settling on the edge of his bed.

"Oh, I was with Ronald alright," she muttered darkly, eyes roaming his face.

"Oh."

"I'm pretty sure he'll be hard of hearing for a couple of weeks. I gave him the biggest telling off in the history of tell offs. Served him right. I can't believe he went after you when you had your back turned! It was so underhanded of him," she groaned, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "I'm so disappointed and you can be sure I let him know it."

A large part of Draco felt pleased and even allowed himself to give a little smile.

"When did you find out?"

"During lunch. I waited for you at the café but you never arrived. I found it suspicious so I went up to your office to see if that hag gave you extra work. She was there but you weren't so I asked what happened and she told me. I grunted some sort of thanks and Floo'd here. After my lunch hour was done, I stomped over to Ronald's office where I proceeded to shriek so loudly I'm sure they thought there was a banshee in his office. But I didn't leave before reacquainting him with my _Avis_."

Draco chuckled softly, unable to stop himself from wincing. Hermione caught him blanching and bit her lip, fluttering her hands over him.

"Are you okay? Anything I can do for you?"

"Tell me what happened next."

She gave him a smile and crossed her leg over her knee, distracting Draco for a moment. He took the time to notice that although she was wearing black robes, she wore some sort of tight skirt underneath, flashing him an enticing view of her thigh.

"Well, I might or might have not let it slip to Molly what he did," she grinned evilly.

Draco laughed but then winced at the twin pangs of pain he felt on his sides.

"Oh, Draco… I'm so sorry you're hurt," she sighed, furrowing her brow.

"I'll heal. Did I have any broken bones?"

"Yes, your ribs and jaw but those were easily fixed. You had quite a bit of internal bleeding and that was quite scary… your skin is black and blue," she frowned, reaching out to very tenderly brush her thumb across his jaw.

Draco hissed and she bit her lip guiltily, snatching her hand back.

"I figured as much, felt like I had broken ribs. Why did I black out?"

"Concussion," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm just glad to see those pretty eyes of yours again."

He smiled grudgingly and looked away.

"Did you really think I'd go to him before coming to see you?" she whispered softly.

To his surprise, her face was much closer than he anticipated and blushed at the nearness.

"You did in a way, didn't you?" he pouted.

"Just because you were unconscious..." she huffed. "Oh, Draco, I was so worried about you. If you hadn't woken up, I would have fetched Narcissa."

"Why?"

"Because it would have been her right to know what happened to you."

He stared into the dark pools that were her eyes, unable to look away.

"Why were you in Muggle London with Weasley?" he blurted out.

_Idiot! Of all the times..._

Hermione looked taken aback and actually leaned backwards slightly.

"I didn't want anybody to eavesdrop on our conversation. Merlin knows it would have gotten twisted. Not to mention that you deserve better than to see your girlfriend and her ex splashed out in the first page in a pathetic excuse for a rag, with the author claiming something trite about second chances at love," she answered him honestly, rolling her eyes.

"Oh."

"Why, where you worried?"

"Not really…"

"Oh," she said, looking genuinely puzzled.

"I didn't like it," he told her stiffly.

Her face relaxed and her eyes melted, radiating warmth.

"Will you please stop doubting my feelings for you?" she asked him gently, leaning forward slightly. "It's a little offensive."

He chuckled at her tone and felt a pleasant warmth flow through his body despite his injuries.

"I'm sorry," he told her sincerely.

Without preamble or warning, she leaned closer and pressed her warm lips against his, sending a pleasant jolt down his body. Draco wanted nothing more than to respond but knew he would be in pain if he did, so he kept still and moved his lips as much as he dared.

_Merlin, her lips are so bloody supple and warm. So sweet but fiery. Only she can rile me up like this. I won't heal soon enough._

She gently nipped at his lip before pulling away with mischievous glint in her eyes. He groaned and pouted, not caring that he was being childish.

"You'll feel better soon enough, Draco," she gave him a sweet smile.

Draco felt his breath catch in his throat and nodded mutely.

"But for now, we're stuck here," she said cheerfully.

"'We're'?"

"Surely you didn't think you were staying here by your lonesome handsome self?" she grinned.

_It feels as though I've been alone for most of my life. What's a few more days? That's not right, though… ever since Hermione came into my life, she's filled a spot that nobody else had managed to take._

"What about work?" he frowned.

"Excused," she smiled, shrugging.

"Hermione, please don't miss work on my account. I'll be out of here before we know it and—"

"Draco, please. I _want_ to be here for you. Anything you want, I'll give you."

She blushed, watching as a smirk crawled up his mouth.

"Well, anything within reason," she chuckled.

"Can you? _Stay_, I mean."

"Of course. We're in a private room," she told him, pointing to a comfortable looking couch in the corner of the room.

"So for how long do they think of keeping me prisoner here?"

"Two more days, max."

"Great," he sighed.

"Draco, I'm curious."

He gave her a teasing smile and nodded for her to continue.

"Why do you work?"

Draco blinked and stared at her, wondering where she was headed with the conversation.

"I mean, I know you're _obscenely rich_," she said with a wry smile. "So why work if you could live comfortably the rest of your life without doing so?"

"When I was offered the job by Shacklebolt I knew I had to take it because it would undoubtedly help the Malfoy name. I wasn't sure how long I'd last or if I'd even like it, but when I saw you and learned that you would be my boss, there was no way I would have ever quit willingly."

She blushed but gave him a radiant smile.

"Do you like it?"

"It's alright. The pay isn't half bad," he chuckled quietly. "But like I'd told you, it's not what I want to do the rest of my life."

"What about me?"

Draco looked at her, surprised by her bold question and couldn't help but smile.

"You're mine now, aren't you?" he whispered huskily. "There's no way I'm letting you go, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked like the cat that ate the canary, reaching out her hand but stopping it shortly before reaching his face.

"Of all the times of not being able to touch you," she sighed unhappily, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

"Merlin, I…"

She cocked her head curiously, watching him keenly. Draco's face burned, aware he probably looked like he had a bad sunburn and scolded himself for almost _spilling the beans __(yet another delightful expression he learned from Hermione)__._

"What is it, Draco?"

"I'm… I'm… er… hungry. Yes! Hungry," he lied, feeling his heart race at the close call.

"Oh, you haven't eaten, have you? What would you like?"

"Something liquid. I doubt I'll be able to chew anything," he sighed forlornly.

She practically jumped off his bed, blatantly eager to help in any way and nodded.

"I'll be right back! Don't go anywhere," she teased, winking at him.

He growled playfully at her but felt relieved to see the back of her. He shut his eyes and pictured himself hitting the back of his head repeatedly.

_Idiot! I can't believe you almost _**_blurted _**_out to her that you love her! As if it weren't enough to behave like a petulant child. I need to get a grip of myself before it all comes crashing down. I couldn't bear to lose her now that I've got her. Keep cool, Draco. When and if, she starts showing signs of enamorement, _**_then _**_you can tell her. But not now, it's too soon and it's likely to frighten her off. I can only hope that I'm lucky enough to be loved by such a woman._

* * *

Thanks for reading! :)


	35. Chapter 35

Like always, thanks for your continued support. :)

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, still not mine.

* * *

Hermione sat in her desk and thought about the last couple of days before smiling. Sure, taking care of a convalescing Draco Malfoy hadn't been a picnic by any means, but it helped Hermione understand him better and grow closer to him. He'd been petulant and oftentimes childish, but he always made sure to thank Hermione no matter what, letting her know that it wasn't _her_ but rather the way he'd been taught.

"_It was always the house-elves who used to care for me when I was sick," he'd told her after having finished his dinner._

_That certainly explained a lot_, Hermione thought wryly.

She looked down at the parchment in her hands and smiled exasperatedly.

"This is what happens when I promise one Draco Malfoy not to berate him," she said with a shake of her head but feeling pleased all the same.

_A date on Saturday, of course. I wonder where he's taking me this time… I wonder… after coming back home, would that be the right time to take our relationship to the next level?_

She blushed at the direction her thoughts had taken and sighed.

"I'm an adult woman, for crying out loud, and definitely _not_ lacking any feminine wiles," she murmured encouragingly to herself. "But in order for _anything_ to work, I must first dress the part…"

She leaned back into her chair and pressed the tip of the quill against her lower lip in thought.

_There's that white dress I've yet to wear… but white's too fussy to deal with. Even so, it _**_did _**_look amazing on me. Hmm… maybe it's time to dust off ol' white. I'll definitely need Ginny's help this time. I've run out of ideas of how to style my hair._

She quickly penned a response to Draco, who'd been given the rest of the week off with pay in order to make up for Ron's misbehavior toward him. He, on the other hand, got suspended without pay for three weeks. Hermione stood and told her secretary to owl her response as soon as possible.

Hermione would have gone to Draco's flat and answered him herself, but he'd uncharacteristically stammered out an excuse about his place being a mess that Hermione didn't bother to question him further.

_What could he be up to? Draco's far too meticulous and fussy to let anything get out of order. But there must be a good reason… so I'll respect that. For now, anyway. Oh! I have to meet him at his place on Saturday, anyway. Looks like I'll find out then._

Once Hermione got home, she made a call via Floo for the Potter's and requested Ginny's assistance. Her friend squealed with happiness and didn't even complain when Hermione requested she be there at ten in the morning.

"Do you know where you're going?" she asked curiously.

"Not a clue. But I did promise him that I wouldn't protest so I'm pretty sure he's going to take advantage of that and take me somewhere ridiculously expensive," Hermione heaved a sigh and rubbed her temple.

"Life's so tough, isn't it?" Ginny teased, brown eyes sparkling.

"I know how it sounds but—"

"Look, he _obviously _adores you, Hermione! So why don't you just let him spoil you rotten? You're only complicating things by kicking up a fuss. Besides, what if he takes you seriously and just stopped? How would you feel then?" she asked her wisely.

Hermione scowled at the thought.

"I… wouldn't like it," she admitted, blushing. "I suppose I have gotten used to him doting upon me."

Ginny grinned and winked at her friend.

"Atta girl. I'll see you ten sharp."

"Thanks, Gin. I can't begin to tell you—"

"You can thank me by telling me all the juicy deets," she interrupted, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. "You're still going through with your plan, right?"

Hermione swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Let's hope that he'll fall for it!"

"Oh, come on, Hermione," she scoffed. "He's a _man_. He'll fall for it."

"I wish I had your nerve and confidence," Hermione sighed wistfully.

"You do! You're a Gryffindor, for crying out loud! There's nothing that you can't get through, remember that."

"Thanks, Ginny. I truly appreciate it," Hermione told her, giving her a warm smile.

Ginny nodded and waved before disappearing. Hermione was thankful that the redhead didn't mention her brother because she might not have been able to hold back her ranting and raving. She shook herself and inhaled deeply before releasing a cleansing breath.

_It's not worth getting upset anymore, what happened, happened. Still, I can't believe Ronald would resort to such low tactics… bah! Stop thinking about it and focus on the weekend. Yes, it's going to be a good one…_

Hermione grinned and rubbed her hands together, eager for the coming weekend.

-x-

She surveyed herself in the mirror, very pleased by what she saw reflected. Hermione had indeed chosen her white dress and smiled. It had a wide neck, long sleeves with a hemline that fell to her knees. It sounded boring but there were a couple of details that made the dress anything but; it had a slit that would make sitting an interesting ordeal and the back of the dress had a scalloped trim, showing off her shoulder blades, dipping just above the middle of her back.

After trying out different hairstyles, Ginny had magicked Hermione's hair into a short, wavy bob. It managed to simultaneously show off the back of the dress and compliment the neckline. She parted it on the side and pinned it down with a small but sparkling clip. Ginny had also taken it upon herself to do her makeup (subtly, per Hermione's request); classic winged liner and fluttery lashes paired with lush scarlet lips.

Needless to say, Hermione was impressed.

She finally slipped her feet into a pair of strappy heels, carefully locking the gold cuff around her ankle and walked around her flat in order to get used to the added height.

Ginny squealed at Hermione's finished look, clapping her hands animatedly.

"There is _no_ way he's going to resist you, Hermione! You _are _wearing those naughty bits of lace underneath, right?"

Hermione blushed but nodded.

"Well, it's almost time for you to head over. I'd wish you good luck but I _know_ you're going to get lucky anyway," she winked salaciously, causing Hermione to blush deeper. "Remember, I want all the details!"

Before Hermione could tell her otherwise, Ginny kissed her on the cheek and activated her Floo to head back home. She was left standing in the middle of her living room, heart pounding as she thought of what the date was going to bring. She glanced at the clock and nearly jumped out of her skin; it was ten 'til noon.

"I know how Draco gets when I'm barely on time…" she murmured, hurrying to her room to gather her wand and clutch.

She tossed the lipstick into her clutch and gave herself a spritz of perfume before taking a deep breath and focused on Draco's flat. With a _pop! _she Apparated but instead of coming face to face with his door she realized she was standing in the middle of his living room. For a wild moment she wondered if she was in the right place but chided herself that she _must_ be because there's no way she didn't focus on her three D's.

"Hermione, that you?" called Draco's melodious voice.

Her heart started and she smiled unwittingly, gently scolding herself for becoming excited at the sound of his voice.

"Who else would it be? How many people are you letting in here?" she joked, trying to ignore the nervous fluttering in her chest.

Hermione heard him chuckle and grinned, wanting nothing more than to run to his bedroom (where she assumed he was, undoubtedly finishing getting primped) and snog him silly. But she stayed where she was, grasping her clutch tightly as she waited for him.

His footsteps started again and she allowed herself to take a quick breath, heart racing as he came out of his bedroom, fussing with his vest. Draco came to a stop and looked up at her, silver eyes widening as he took the sight of her in. His mouth hung open as he stared at her, starting at the top of her head and ending with her feet. Hermione saw his Adam's apple quiver as he eyed her slowly, closing his mouth as his eyes met hers once more.

"Have I rendered _the_ Draco Malfoy speechless?" she teased, tilting her head to the side.

He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out; he gaped at her and then closed it, clearing his throat and giving himself a little shake.

"You… Hermione… you look _divine_," he told her in a quiet, reverent voice.

She flushed, thrilled, and smiled at him. He still looked awestruck until she started walking to him, doing a little turn before him and feeling her pulse race when she heard him groan at the sight of the back of her dress. She finally came to a stop before him and was fascinated to see his eyes shift to a dark slate hue.

"Hi," she told him quietly.

"Hey."

He sounded strangely out of breath and Hermione was about to inquire whether he felt alright when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her ardently, pressing her close to his body. Hermione could have sworn she felt his rapid heartbeat against her own chest but she shook those thoughts away and focused on his wonderful mouth. He kissed her with such desire and need that it sent warm jolts to her belly, turning her knees to jelly.

_Oh, Merlin…_

"Draco… Draco… don't we need to be going somewhere?" she murmured against his lips, unable nor willing to extricate herself completely from his arms.

He growled softly, biting her lip with a little more force than usual and Hermione released a shaky breath at the sensation. Draco gave her a lingering kiss but pulled himself from her body before finally dragging his mouth away. He was out of breath, eyes stormy as ever as he surveyed her.

In turn, Hermione pouted and gently pressed her fingers where he'd bitten her lip.

"Serves you right," he told her huskily, though she could see a glint of humor in his eyes.

Hermione gulped at his tone, suppressing a shiver.

"We're due to leave in a minute. Got everything you need?" he asked, clearing his throat.

"Yes."

"Good… come here. You _really_ do look delectable, you know," he whispered into her ear. "I'm the luckiest wizard ever."

Hermione wrapped her arms around his middle and pressed herself close to him, anticipating the jerk of the Portkey and smirked.

"Well, you're in for a treat…"

He pulled away slightly and peered at her, his eyes glinting curiously.

"What do you mean?"

She gave him a slow smile, enjoying the way his cheeks flushed pink.

"Looks like you'll have to find out," she muttered throatily into his ear.

He groaned softly just as the Portkey activated.

They landed on a brightly lit street and Hermione heard voices speaking in a foreign tongue. She straightened herself and looked around, watching the fashionable witches and wizards walk by and glancing at them inquisitively.

"Draco… where are we?" she asked, turning to him.

"Wizarding Tokyo, of course," he answered smugly.

She stared at him, half of her ready to scold him while the other half of her grew fascinated. She settled for taking his hand and giving a squeeze. Draco looked immensely relieved and glanced at his watch.

"We better be on our way, then."

"Lead the way."

This was one of the times where Hermione wished she had eyes on the back of her head. There was so much to see and smell but they walked at a brisk pace, always getting stared at. She could hear murmurs and wondered if she was well-known here.

Before long, they finally reached their destination and Draco pulled her along gently, giving her hand a squeeze.

"Don't tell me… you speak Japanese."

He simply gave her a smirk which told her all she needed to know.

_I'm very impressed. Who would have thought Draco Malfoy was multi-lingual? I wonder what other languages he's fluent in… looks like I'd severely underestimated his intelligence back in Hogwarts. I'd always thought he cheated off others but looks like it might have been the other way around. Of course, I'm sure he handed his answers over... for a price._

They were led to a small and private room with a low table for two along with a chef standing behind a counter. He bowed to them and the hostess left (but not before bowing as well) and were left alone.

"No chairs for me to pull out for you, sorry love," he grinned, flopping down elegantly.

She rolled her eyes but smiled, lowering herself to the floor as gracefully as possible. Hermione saw Draco eye the slit, silver eyes sparkling and hastily righted the dress.

"So… I'm guessing we're going to eat fresh sushi?" she asked, turning toward the chef, who started slicing fish so smoothly Hermione couldn't help but stare.

"Correct. Wait, _do_ you like sushi?" he asked, blinking at her.

"I sure do. Ronald didn't, though. Always had to put up with his whinging whenever I was in the mood for any," she snickered.

He sighed with relief and gave her a smile.

"So, how's work?" he asked her pleasantly.

"Busy as always. Although…"

A beautiful Japanese witch appeared, clad in one of the most intricately beautiful kimono Hermione had ever set her eyes upon, holding a tea set on a tray and set it down between them. Draco thanked her and the witch bowed, leaving them alone once more.

"Although what?"

"I've been thinking about what you said. Or asked me, really."

"Which was…? I say a lot of things," he chuckled, serving them tea.

"About working at the Ministry, I mean. As much as I enjoy it, I don't _love_ it," she sighed, biting her lip guiltily.

He handed her a cup of tea and gave her a look.

"What would you love to do?"

"Lots of things! I'd like to travel the world, learn more languages, advance my education…"

He frowned then, pausing.

"Advance your education?"

"Yes! I'd like to attend Muggle university," she smiled enthusiastically.

"Oh."

She frowned then and watched him.

"You don't sound too thrilled."

"Well, I suppose I was thinking in long term goals," he shrugged, drinking tea. "But those are all nice things."

"_Nice_ things?" she raised her eyebrow, cocking her head slightly.

_Something's not right._

"Sure."

Hermione licked her lips and watched Draco, who was studying the cup in his hands intently. He wore his trademark mask of impassivity and Hermione sighed inwardly.

_He's hiding something from me._

"What is it, Draco?"

His eyes flickered up to hers and she caught some hurt in them before they became oddly blank.

"Nothing," he told her simply, shrugging again.

"It's _not_ nothing. Please tell me? Or else I'll start to worry and think it's something much worse than it really is," she told him earnestly, leaning forward.

He eyed her shrewdly for a moment before sighing.

"I was just wondering… where that would leave me in your plans," he admitted softly.

Hermione stared at him for a long moment.

"It's okay if you don't want me. I mean, it's _your_ life and you're free to do whatever you want—" he warbled, breaking eye contact.

Hermione frowned, watching as he worked himself into a tizzy.

"_Draco._"

He stopped and glanced at her, sinking his teeth into his lower lip.

"Do you really think I'd leave you behind?" she asked him gently. "I don't know about you, but I'd like to have you by my side."

He blinked and his mask vanished, leaving behind a relief so tangible that Hermione could almost feel it herself.

"I think, though… I'd like to do something that involves two of those things."

"What is it?"

Hermione swallowed nervously and looked down, clenching her jaw together.

"Hermione?" he asked when she hadn't answered.

"I'd like to go fetch my parents," she told him quietly.

"That's great, Hermione. I bet they'll be pleased—"

"But it's not that easy, Draco," she told him in an even quieter voice.

"Why not?"

She steeled herself and looked up, meeting his gaze.

"Before erasing their memories, I researched. I wanted to make sure that the spell wouldn't be fallible... that even if they were found by Death Eaters, they wouldn't be able to reverse it; only I could. But even then… it's so strong… it's so strong that even if I made an attempt to remove it…" she trailed off, eyes pricking with tears.

"Yes?"

"They might not even remember me in the end. Even if they did… their mind wouldn't be the same."

Draco looked stricken and reached his hand out to take hers.

"Hermione."

"I wasn't sure of whether I'd be alive at the end…" she whispered, fighting back tears. "If I wasn't, I wanted them to have a chance to live an undisturbed and happy life."

He sighed heavily and squeezed her hand, speechless.

The chef brought down their fresh sushi and bowed to them, leaving them be as another woman brought them what Hermione could guess was sake.

"It looks so good," she murmured, lightly dabbing beneath her eyes with her free hand.

"Hermione."

"Let's get started, shall we?" she ignored him, gently pulling her hand away.

"_Hermione._"

She sighed softly and looked up at him.

"It's… a lot to risk. Are you sure you want to look for them?" he asked her softly.

"They're my _parents_, Draco. I'm their only chance at remembering. What would _you_ do?"

He looked stumped and Hermione smiled grimly.

"Okay, I see your point now," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Still…"

"If I don't try I know I'll probably wonder for the rest of my life _what_ _if_," she muttered, closing her eyes.

"So that's what you were hiding," he told her keenly.

"What do you mean?" she asked, snapping her eyes open.

"That day when we visit my mother and you spoke about this, you looked so fidgety that it made me wonder what you were withholding from us."

"You're good," she told him wryly.

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't," he told her seriously.

"Look, why don't we just eat now and talk about this later? Everything looks so good and my stomach's growling," she lied, wanting to change the subject.

"As you wish," he nodded, gesturing for her to serve herself.

"But going back to long term goals… maybe I'll give teaching a try."

"Teaching? As a professor at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, I'm sure Minerva wouldn't mind occupying me," she grinned. "I always was _her_ favorite pupil, after all."

Draco rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"If it's something you'd like to try, then you should do it," he encouraged her.

Hermione smiled widely at him, thankful to have such a supportive boyfriend.

"Still, I'd miss you…" he told her quietly.

Hermione stilled and frowned.

"You're right, we wouldn't get to see each other much," she sighed yet again.

"Hermione."

"Yes, Draco?"

"I was serious, you know… about having a future with you," he reminded her, eyes never leaving her face. "I mean, I know our relationship is barely commencing…"

"But it's never too early to think about the future," she finished for him. "I… would like to be with you, Draco. You're everything I have ever wished for in a partner."

"But?" he grimaced, looking a little pale.

"I don't know if you've thought this far, but it's still too early for me to think about marriage. I _just_ got out of entering one not to mention that you yourself were engaged, too. Like I said, I'm sorry if I'm jumping the gun but that seems like _the _most ideal long term goal for us."

"Jumping the gun?" he asked perplexedly.

"Oh, it's a Muggle expression. It means to get ahead of oneself," she explained patiently.

"Oh. I'm not even sure what a 'gun' is. I'm guessing it's something Muggle then?"

"Yes, but that's irrelevant at the moment. You understand what I'm saying, right?"

He watched her for a long moment before nodding slowly.

"I do."

Draco cringed at his poor choice of words but Hermione grinned.

"That day when I met Ron for dinner he told me that had we married, he would have expected me to quit my job to have children and to be a housewife. He eventually relented that he would have agreed to _let_ me have a job until I'd gotten pregnant and it made me realize that I value myself too much to do that," she sighed, putting her chopsticks down. "I mean, I want children but there is _no_ way I would ever quit my job in the long-run to be a mother or to be a housewife."

"Hermione, that was completely selfish of Weasley," he shook his head as if thinking what an idiot Ron was. "But I hope you know that _should_ we ever reach that point, I would never force you to do anything you wouldn't want to do. Your life... and your body is your own, Hermione and I wouldn't dare dictate what you do with it. In fact, I love how you refuse to settle down to be a housewife because you deserve so much more than that."

Hermione smiled, feeling immense liberation at his words. His words stirred something warm in her and she could feel her love for him—

_I… what? My love for Draco?_

She shook herself internally and made herself focus on the subject.

"I appreciate that, Draco. Really I do. It made me so unhappy to think that Ron…" she heaved a sigh. "No matter, I'm with you now."

He gave her a wistful smile.

"I know we said we'd worry about this when it happens, but I _would_ like to get married and have children someday," he told her quietly, cheeks coloring. "So if that's something you don't want at some point…"

Her heart ached at the thought of not being with Draco and she glared at him.

"Trying to get rid of me already, are you?"

His smile grew a fraction as he reached for his chopsticks again.

"Not in that dress," he whispered silkily.

_Oh, right... the dress. The lingerie. My plan of seduction._

"Don't worry, Draco, I'm not going anywhere," she purred, popping a piece of salmon sashimi into her mouth.

His lips parted slightly and his silver gaze turned heated.

"Good because you're mine now. Good luck getting rid of _me_," he smirked, winking at her.

_Oh, thank Merlin._

Thankfully their conversation became less serious and more flirtatious, both of them delighting in the pleasant banter that was unique between the two of them.

"So where are we headed now?" Hermione asked, serving herself more tea.

"Well," Draco said, glancing at his watch. "It's barely three back home…"

_Damn, it's still too early._

"Why don't we continue our date elsewhere?" she suggested.

"Oh?" he asked, interested.

"Why don't we head to Rome? Didn't you promise to take me back someday?" she asked, batting her lashes coquettishly.

Draco seemed to freeze on the spot, watching her. He finally snapped out of it when Hermione shifted, showing off a sliver of her creamy inner thigh.

"You'd let me?" he questioned skeptically, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Of course! Didn't I promise I wouldn't be difficult?" she smiled sweetly.

He watched her warily for a moment before nodding.

"Alright, but we'll probably need to Floo there since I don't have a Portkey ready for that. I'd suggest Apparation but…" he trailed off, giving her a little smile.

"I understand," she told him quickly, grateful for his thoughtfulness. "Are you ready?"

He chuckled and stood up.

"My, aren't you eager?" he teased, extending his hand out to her.

She took it and grasped it, rising to her feet and smoothing her skirt down. Draco eyed her but kept quiet, clearly enjoying the view.

"_Merlin_, Granger… you look absolutely luscious," he sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"I could say the same about you," she smiled seductively, gently tugging on the crisply ironed collar of his oxford.

He groaned and took her hand in his.

"Let's go before we do something I regret," he uttered, leading her out of the restaurant.

_Oh, if only you knew what I have planned for later, Draco._

She smiled innocently and followed him, ready to butter him up for the evening's main event.

* * *

Do excuse my poor imagination of how Wizarding Tokyo would be like. I'm sure it'd be much more wondrous than I painted it. Thanks for taking the time to read, review and favorite!


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: I apologize for the delay of this chapter, but I just wasn't sure how to proceed with their... ahem, coupling. But I finally found a way while still keeping it relatively clean. XD Also, this chapter is pretty short but the length of the next one makes up for it. :P I'm going on vacation (yay NYC) on Wednesday, so it's been edited to the nth degree, so it can be ready to post even if I'm not home.

**ETA: Chapter isn't quite as short anymore, added some things. Hopefully you'll enjoy the changes.**

Disclaimer: Not mine, most unfortunately.

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After what felt like a long but satisfying day, Draco and Hermione finally took their return Portkey back to his flat. To Draco's complete delight, Hermione had been a raging flirt throughout their date. He felt _special_ (as much as it hurt to use such a word) because not once had he seen her behave that way with anyone else. It definitely boosted his ego that the great Hermione Granger found him, _Draco Malfoy_, worthy of her coquettish attentions.

Not to mention that she'd been ogled everywhere they went, making him both proud (to have such an outstanding woman such as she on his arm because _Malfoys always did have the best_) and mildly annoyed but couldn't quite help the pleasant, if mildly smug, flutter in his stomach when he realized that she only had eyes for him.

_It was that bloody dress! I've never had such an urge to rip a dress off a woman yet wanting her to remain suitably clothed. Of course it would only happen with her._

Once they were back at his flat, Draco inquired whether she'd like a glass of wine and she nodded, giving him a warm smile. He served them some rose wine and handed her the glass, belatedly noticing that she had yet to take a seat. She watched him raptly as she drank and Draco felt a though a group of tiny golden snitches had broken loose in his stomach.

_Absolutely ridiculous… but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love how she makes me feel. Like night and day, compared to sixth year... but better not think of that now. I don't want to spoil whatever is happening between us._

He sat down gracefully, sinking into the comfortable cushions of the sofa and motioned for Hermione to sit down. She gave him a coy look and sat down slowly, probably not wanting to spill wine on her dress. Meanwhile, Draco couldn't keep his eyes off the damned slit of her dress. She was so tantalizingly close that he could even get a waft of her fresh and floral perfume; it tantalized every last one of his senses.

He cleared his throat and tore his eyes from the pale but toned flesh of her thigh, settling them on her face instead. Draco was taken aback by the heat in her dark brown eyes and he swallowed thickly, feeling his heart stutter at the sight.

"So… did you have a good time?" he asked her, feeling a quavery sort of energy run through his body.

"I did! Thank you so much, Draco," she beamed at him. "_And_ without a peep of complaint from me."

He smiled and took a drink of wine to steady himself.

"See? It wasn't so difficult, was it?" he teased, shifting his position so he could face her.

"You'll find that I can be rather... _flexible_... when I put my mind to it," she told him softly, eyes burning into his own.

Draco bit back a moan and watched as she shifted her body to face him. He idly wondered whether she was wearing any knickers and took a drink of wine to distract him from the possibility of her not having any on.

_Not like you would do anything about it… right? Oh, hell... I'm trying to talk myself out of taking things further with her. _

"That's… good. You need to get used to getting spoiled because there isn't one moment you won't be by my side," he smiled at her, desperately hoping that he didn't look as distracted as he felt.

"Only by your side?" she cocked her head, a corner of her lip curling up in a sly half a smile.

_Merlin, where'd she learn to do **that**?_

She took a sip of wine, suddenly looking as though her mind was miles away. Draco wondered what was going on in that brilliant brain of hers, trying to imagine what train of thought brought her to such distraction from their conversation. He was about to ask when she accidentally spilled wine on her dress. She let out a soft groan, watching as the white of her dress became stained with pink. Some had fallen on her hand and she licked the drops away, leaving Draco sorely tempted to lap the wine from her thigh. Instead, he shot to his feet and looked down at her.

"I still have those pajamas you transfigured, would you like for me to bring them to you?" he asked her, feeling strangely out of breath.

She looked up at him and gave him an inquisitive look, making Draco blush.

"I've thought of them as yours ever since you wore them," he mumbled, looking away.

She chuckled softly and reached her hand out to pat his side affectionately.

"That's very sweet of you," she smiled, flushing. "But yes, please. If it's not too much of a bother."

"You're never a bother," he replied earnestly, loving the way her cheeks grew rosy.

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze before leaning down to brush his lips against her knuckles. Draco looked into her eyes and saw them smolder, causing his blood to turn red-hot. He straightened up and let go of her hand, murmuring about going to fetch the pajamas for her.

_Get a hold of yourself, Draco! She couldn't possibly find all that bumbling to be attractive… maybe it was a bad idea to bring her here. I should have taken her straight to her place. Merlin, what am I doing? She's making me feel like a fumbling fourth year!_

He rummaged through his drawers until he finally found the pajamas. Draco lightly brushed his fingers against the cool silk and sighed softly.

_I need to get her into the pajamas and then out of here before I do something I'll regret…_

He walked back to his living room and almost jumped out of his skin when he saw Hermione leaning over her dress. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the situation, really. Had Draco been in her shoes, he would have hastened to take the garment off and clean it before the stain became permanent.

No, he was shocked because he received an eyeful of Hermione since she was swathed in lace; skimpy lingerie in the palest blue that left Draco with his mouth hanging open. She seemed to sense him and straightened when she noticed him, giving him a soft sort of smile.

"Had to clean it before the stain set," she shrugged, as if being scantily clad before him wasn't a big deal to her.

Despite the fact that Hermione's front was as equally lovely as the back, Draco's eyes fell on the scar that marred her torso. It was a little darker than her skin and ran from underneath her breast to her hip. He felt speechless, realizing that the scar was a remnant from Dolohov's curse. Hermione fidgeted, crossing her arms under her breasts and Draco chastised himself inwardly.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. It was abominably rude of me to stare. I just..." he trailed off helplessly, blushing.

"It's alright, Draco," she answered softly, stepping closer to him. "I'm sorry, too. I just... I guess I'm a little self-conscious about it, which is a little ridiculous because who _isn't_ scarred nowadays? Besides, I'm lucky to be alive, so I wear it like a badge of honor. It's just a little discomforting because you're the second man whose seen it..."

_Ah, I see now._

"Hermione, that doesn't take away from your beauty. If anything, it adds to it. It tells me that you're a courageous, loyal woman. I would never want you any other way because you're absolute perfection as you are."

Her cheeks grew rosy and she gave him a grateful smile. It then dawned on Draco that Hermione was standing before him, lace covering her most intimate parts, and felt his mouth run dry as he allowed himself to_ look _at her in all her glory. He'd always imagined she had a delicious figure underneath her clothes, but his fantasy had _nothing _on just how good she really looked. The cherry on top was the fact that she still wore her heels, making her legs look even longer.

"Draco?" she asked softly, as if sensing the change in his demeanor.

"Hermione…" he whispered before quickly extending the pajamas out at her.

She gave him a smile that convened gratefulness and walked to him, the slow sway of her hips hypnotizing Draco. Hermione reached out for the pajamas, her fingers brushing his which sent a jolt of electricity down his spine.

"Thank you," she told him softly, looking deep into his eyes.

Her brown eyes shone brightly and Draco could see her desire for him as clear as day. He finally permitted himself to groan softly and closed his eyes, turning away from her.

"Draco?"

"You should probably change, Hermione… I don't trust myself to be around you looking like _that_," he spoke through gritted teeth.

"But _I_ trust you," she told him simply.

He turned back to her and frowned slightly. She licked her lips and he followed the movement with his eyes, wanting nothing more than to do it to her himself... or to have her tongue running all over his body. Better yet, he wanted to run his all over her supple body, eager to discover her sensitive areas.

_No, no… get a hold of yourself, Draco!_

"I… don't deserve this," he choked out, gesturing at her body.

The lingerie had silver threaded all throughout it, adding to the prettiness of it. The straps of Hermione's bra were made of silk and Draco ran his gaze over her breasts, yearning nothing more than to reach out and run his fingertip along the swell of them. When he'd walked into the room he'd seen the thong; or rather, the scrap of lace that barely covered yet accented her pert arse.

_But to have her so close and willing..._

She put the pajamas to the side and Draco almost groaned again. Hermione reached out and brushed her fingers against the buttons of his vest. She skimmed them upwards slowly, leaving a pleasurable tingle in their wake. She'd been stroking the neck of his shirt when he took her hand, grasping it tightly. They looked into each other's eyes and Draco felt what was left of his resolve vanish. He brought her hand up to his lips, brushing them along the inner part of her wrist. Hermione shivered, to his utmost delight, and sighed his name so softly it sounded like a caress.

"Why?" he asked in a strangled voice.

"Because I want all of you, Draco. I think it's time we—"

"You don't know what you're saying," he groaned softly, closing his eyes.

"Don't make me seduce you," she threatened softly.

_What's all this then? Was she truly so afraid I'd reject her?_

"Oh, you'll find out I am more than willing," he chuckled wryly.

"So what's the problem, then?" she asked, sounding frustrated.

He opened his eyes and saw her frowning at him. He immediately brushed his finger against the crease between her eyebrows and saw the corners of her lips lift slightly.

"I've never thought I particularly deserved you, Hermione. You've always been far too good for me. But giving me _this_…" he said, motioning to her body.

"Draco," she said in a no nonsense tone, "I'm hardly a virgin."

He chuckled despite himself and loosened his grip on her hand; he didn't want to bruise her.

"I know, Hermione. Still, won't you try to see it from my point of view?" he pleaded quietly.

"Draco, why are you so intent on demonizing yourself?" she huffed. "Can't you see the man you've become has nothing to do with the boy you were years ago? It's time you start to forgive yourself, love. If you don't, you'll never be able to move on with your life."

Maybe it was because she called him 'love' or because she sounded like her heart was assaulted by the deepest of pains, but Draco crushed her against him in a fierce embrace. She immediately wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tightly, as if to reassure him of the strength of her feelings for him. He closed his eyes and shuddered, holding her closer to him as her warmth seeped through his clothes and into his own body.

Draco felt something warm being pressed against his neck and nearly jumped out of Hermione's arms when he realized it was her lips. She glided them along his jaw and to his chin while Draco tried to hold himself together. Hermione unwrapped her arms from his waist and felt her begin to unbutton his vest deftly as Draco bit his lip, torn between desire and doing the honorable thing. She gently pried the garment off before tossing it onto his couch.

"Stop fighting yourself, Draco," she told him softly, brushing her lips against his ear. "Stop fighting me. Don't make me tie you up."

"Is that supposed to be a threat? If so, it's not a very good one. What if I like it?" he asked her cheekily, hoping it would mask his interest at the possibility of her binding him.

"Then I'll just make you _watch_ me," she said in a breathy voice, nibbling on his earlobe.

He shivered and let out a soft whimper at the thought, turning his face until his lips met hers. She moved hers against his languidly until Draco held her chin, giving her a deep kiss.

_That's it, I'm done for. There's no going back now._

She kissed him back excitedly, sliding her hands up his chest before gently gripping his shoulders. He splayed his hand out across the silken skin of her back, relishing the feel of it. She tasted of rose wine and passion and Draco found himself helplessly in love with the witch in his arms.

_I never stood a chance of not loving her._

Hermione unbuttoned his shirt slowly, digging in her blunt fingernails into the exposed skin of his chest and Draco groaned. She nipped his bottom lip before laving it with her tongue and he found himself being ushered by her towards the direction of his bedroom. He chuckled inwardly, feeling mildly amused by her eagerness.

_Not that I'm not looking forward to it myself. Merlin, I want it. I want **her**._

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, discarding it somewhere in his hallway as her hands wandered across his chest. Draco's hand slid up her spine before tangling his fingers in her hair, which had turned back into her riotous mane of curls from the sleek style it'd been charmed.

_Merlin knows why I ever made fun of her hair. I love it. I love her._

Hermione came to a complete stop when she touched the scar across _his _chest, pulling away to look at his face before focusing on his scar. His breath caught at the glazed look in her eyes and felt mildly disappointed when they began to clear.

"Is this...?"

"Yes."

"Stupid, stupid boy..." she muttered, lightly tracing its shape with her fingertips.

Draco shivered at the sensation, realizing Hermione was the first woman to touch it.

"This doesn't make you any less beautiful either, you know."

He closed his eyes lazily, enjoying the way her fingers felt against him. A different type of warmth caused him to snap his eyes back open and stared as Hermione trailed gentle kisses along it. He swallowed thickly as her head dipped lower before pressing one last kiss to the end of his scar, near his navel. His heart threatened to burst from his chest when she looked up at him, her brown eyes warm and revering.

He stared back at her, wanting to convey how much her actions meant to him before tugging her upright and pulling her into his bedroom. It felt rather chilly against his overly heated skin and pressed Hermione closer to him when she trembled in his arms at the lower temperature.

"You okay?" he muttered, dipping his head to press his forehead against hers.

"I'm good," she whispered back, unbuckling his belt and dropping it on the floor.

He gave her a tender kiss, loving the way she moaned his name.

_This is so different from any other couplings I've had. It doesn't feel rushed or frantic despite my burning need for her. Could it be that it's different because I love her? This has never happened to me before... I wonder if it has with her. Merlin, I hope not. _

But Draco became distracted by the sight of Hermione being bathed in moonlight. He'd left the curtains open and he pulled away from her, ever so slightly, admiring the flawlessness of her skin. Her lips were swollen and her dark eyes scorched with an intensity that left him breathless. He raised his hand, brushing the curve of her cheek with his thumb and smiled when she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. His heart swelled with love for her and pondered whether it would be a good time to let Hermione know how he felt... but decided against it.

_For the moment. I can't put it off forever. Even if part of me is wary of letting someone in when I've been instructed since childhood into keeping people out. But she's Hermione, she's different._

He became distracted when she reached behind her to unhook her bra strap, dropping it to the floor as she wiggled her thong down her hips and gently kicking the garment away. Draco felt his mouth go dry at the sight before him; it'd been a long time since he'd seen a woman naked. But more than that, really, was the fact that _Hermione_ wanted to further the intimacy between them and had chosen _him_ of all people... it caused a flash of scorching desire to run through him.

Draco finally tore his eyes from her body and looked at her face, smirking at the sight of her half-lidded eyes as she took in his physique. Slowly, he reached for the button of his trousers and watched as Hermione's face reddened when he pushed them down. Once they were both equally unclothed, Draco watched as she watched him with wonder in her eyes and he'd be damned if it didn't turn him on.

Hermione reached out and Draco gasped as her fingers brushed against his skin, realizing he was in for a hell of a wondrous night.

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As always, thank you so much for reading and your continued support. It's what keeps me going when I'm feeling tired of the story. But we're getting closer to the end! Have a lovely weekend, everybody. :)


	37. Chapter 37

Greetings from NYC, my dear readers! I just had Shake Shack and saw Clark Gregg, so life is good. :D

Disclaimer: Still not mine.

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On Monday morning, Hermione felt as though she were walking on cloud nine after having spent the majority of the weekend in Draco's arms. She greeted her secretary with a serene smile before stepping into her office and felt her jaw hang open in surprise.

There was a flower arrangement perched in the middle of her desk, taking up the majority of her workspace. Hermione stared at it in wide-eyed disbelief at first before a series of giggles tumbled out of her mouth. She shut her door with a flick of her wand, spotting the tiny white card that was nestled between the sunflowers and tulips. She immediately recognized Draco's elegant script and snatched it carefully, cooing over the flowers.

_Hermione,_

_ There are times when words can't begin to describe just how you make me feel, this being one of them. But, because it's you... thank you for giving me the best and most unforgettable weekend of my life. Have a brilliant day, lioness._

_Love,_

_Draco_

Her face heated at his pet name but pushed the memories back of him murmuring it into her ear while his fingers skated along the curve of her hip…

Hermione sighed dreamily, shaking herself out of her reverie but felt her heart stutter at the word 'love.'

_Love? Could it mean…? No, I don't think so. I mean, he certainly doesn't behave like a man in love. But sending me flowers is awful sentimental of him… but then again, Draco's surprisingly thoughtful when he puts his mind into it. Well, when it comes to me, at least._

She beamed at the majestic array of flowers as if they were Draco himself and very tenderly brushed a fingertip along the velvety petals. Hermione inhaled deeply, letting their fragrance envelop her.

_Merlin, it smells so divine. White roses, sunflowers, tulips, lilacs, peonies, gardenias! Oh, I just spotted some dahlias. He really does have exquisite taste._

Hermione continued to admire her flowers before deciding to conjure a marble pedestal for them. As lovely as they looked on their desk, she wouldn't be able to get much work done if she left them there. She levitated them slowly and set them down with the utmost care, lightly tweaking a rose petal before dropping dreamily into her chair.

_Draco certainly went all out, didn't he? He never does anything by halves… and he has the nerve to call __**me**__ persnickety._

She smiled softly and turned to the paperwork waiting for her on her desk, ready to immerse herself in work.

"When's the deadline for this?" she murmured out loud, perusing the parchment for the date.

Her eyes found **June 5th** and Hermione made sure to write a note about it so she wouldn't forget.

_Hang on, what's today?_

She looked at the tiny calendar she kept in the first drawer in her desk and blinked owlishly.

"Today's June first… hang on. June fifth… June fifth… why does it sound familiar?" she mumbled, lightly drumming her fingertips against her chin. "Hang on… isn't that Draco's birthday?"

She screwed her eyes shut, thinking back for when he worked for her.

_I __**know**__ Kingsley handed over his paperwork to me… of all the things to slip my mind, it has to be something important like this!_

Hermione growled under breath before snapping her eyes open with realization.

"It _is_ the fifth! So why hasn't that sneaky little ferret brought it up?" she mused, leaning back into her chair.

_Maybe he doesn't want me to make a big deal out of it… but why wouldn't he? I know he'll undoubtedly make a big fuss about my birthday. _

She chuckled, knowing he was just the type to plan a surprise party for her even if she'd made it clear in the past she loathed surprises.

_What was he going to say to me come Saturday? 'Oh, by the way, it's my birthday'? Maybe he just wants to have a low-key celebration between the two of us. It would fit with the post-war, understated Draco Malfoy. Well, if he thinks I'm going to sit idly, he's dead wrong! Perhaps I could make a dinner reservation. Where, though?_

Hermione furrowed her brow as she racked her brain for restaurants.

"There's always Chez Magic-fique. I know it was the place of that tragic double date but I'd be with Draco this time and there would be no Ronald Weasley to muck things up for us. It could be symbolic, maybe. That we've come full circle, perhaps? But how will I lure Draco there? There's no doubt he's going to be suspicious; he's Slytherin, for Godric's sake!" she muttered maniacally to herself.

_But… what if I only tell him we have a reservation at such time and to be there? __Sure, he'll more than likely be curious and I know he'd be too proud to ask if I don't say anything else. Great, I'll ask Nubia to make the reservation for Saturday, at seven. Now, to think about what I want to wear for the birthday boy…_

As lunchtime approached, Hermione sent Draco a memo.

_Hey Draco, are you ready for lunch?_

Minutes later she received his response.

_As much as I'd love to, I'm afraid I must decline. We got a petition for a group who wants to start a support group for ghoul rights… need I say more?_

Hermione grimaced and nodded sympathetically.

_Don't worry, been there, done that. Just make sure to eat something, alright?_

_Fret not. Olivia offered to fetch some lunch for me. Parkinson already headed out. How's it fair that __**she **__gets to go out while I'm stuck in the office?_

She could almost picture him pouting petulantly as he wrote that.

_That horrid cow! Anyway… I shan't interrupt anymore. Good luck. PS. Thank you for the flowers. I love them._

Again, she paused at the word 'love' and stared at it, trying to discern the feeling it evoked in her.

_Anytime, sweetness._

Hermione giggled and blushed at the new term of endearment.

"Oh, Merlin… what's he done to me? It's like my brain's turned to slush. I'm behaving the exact same way Lavender and Parvati did back in Hogwarts!" she sighed, resting her chin on the back of her hand. "I guess I always was a late bloomer."

The rest of the week passed by slowly and not once was she able to have lunch with Draco, much to her disappointment, as he was still saddled by the ghoul rights group. Yes, she saw him after work, when he escorted her home but Hermione didn't let him linger because he always looked ready to pass out on her doorstep. So, she usually gave him a chaste kiss goodnight and sent him on his way.

Hermione found that she missed him terribly; she'd grown accustomed to his clever quips, the way a corner of his lips quirked higher than the other when he smirked and just the way she felt having him around. His scent brought her comfort and had come to associate it with happiness and warmth. Without him, she felt as though a vital part of her was missing.

"_Dear Merlin, I sound like a lovestruck teenager," she muttered as she climbed into bed._

_She froze, gripping her sheets so tightly her knuckles had gone bone white. It felt as if her stomach had dropped down to her feet while her mind raced, recalling of all the moments they've spent together._

"_I love him," she whispered hoarsely, feeling hot tears spill from her eyes._

_She fell back against her headboard and swallowed thickly._

"_I love Draco Malfoy," she sniffled, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand._

_Weirdly enough, a smile began to form on her face as she felt warmth fill her chest at the realization._

"_Is that why I feel like the most beautiful woman in the world when he looks at me with that intense gaze of his? Why his smiles make me feel as if I'm witnessing the sun emerge after a cloudy day? Why his touch is the best medicine? Oh, good Godric… I'm in so much trouble," she murmured, rubbing her eyes wearily. "What woman has loved Draco Malfoy and lived to tell the tale? For one, look at Parkinson. She's obviously still desperate to gain his attention. What will become of me?"_

_But Hermione reminded herself that while Draco may have victimized her in school, he grew up into a thoughtful, sensitive man. Whenever he inquired about how her job was going, it wasn't out of mere courtesy; he asked because he cared, actually listening and helpfully providing input whenever she asked for it. He kept the topmost drawer of her desk stocked with her favorite caramel-flavored sugar quills from Honeydukes. Draco had even offered to massage her feet whenever she'd chuck her heels off after getting home from work. Not to mention all the wondrous dates he'd treated her to._

"_Could there be the slightest possibility that he might feel the same?" she mused, sliding down between her covers and snuggling into her pillow. "Should I tell him?"_

_I have to, Hermione thought to herself._

"_Right along with… what happened years ago. I have to be honest. I have to let him know. I can't keep hiding it from him, especially if I love him," she whispered, eyes glazing over with tears. "Even if he detests me again once I tell him."_

As Hermione got ready for Chez Magic-fique, she thought back to Draco's reaction. It had been exactly as she'd predicted; he'd given her a curious if wary look, not asking for details once she didn't divulge anything but the restaurant and hour. Draco had only asked for dress code and then winked, telling her he'd be there. To her surprise, he hadn't even questioned the fact that they wouldn't arrive together.

_So he must definitely know something is up. Oh! I should have invited Narcissa to join us for dinner. Merlin, where's my head been this past week?_

Hermione's expression tightened, her lips pressing together in a reddened thin line.

_Fretting, naturally. But it's no use now. I've made my decision and there's no going back on my word._

After putting the finishing touches on her hair, she leaned back and gave herself a once over. A tiny smile curled the corners of her lips, predicting that Draco was going to comment something or other about her dress.

_Oh, but if everything goes as planned, he's definitely going to have fun peeling it off my body._

She smirked at her reflection before turning on her heel to grab her purse and wand. Just before exiting her bedroom, she glanced at the array of flowers Draco had given her on Monday and admired how they looked as beautiful and fresh as they did that first day.

_I wonder what sort of charms they've placed on them… perhaps I'll ask him. Although I'm sure the flower shop deserves more credit that Draco does for that._

Not wanting to risk getting soot on herself via Floo, Hermione concentrated on the bustling street of Diagon Alley before Apparating there. Thankfully the sun had already set, so she remained anonymous for the most part thanks to the darkness.

Upon entering Chez Magic-fique, she immediately spotted Draco. He looked deeply amused as the hostess flirted with him, going as far as to bat her eyelashes at him. While part of Hermione felt amused too, a larger part of her wanted to scratch the woman's eyes out and hex her so she had tentacles sprouting from her face. Following that, she'd give Draco a kiss so passionate she'd take his breath away, claiming him as hers in public.

Hermione shook herself out of her little daydream, feeling slightly abashed for wanting to hurt someone and walked forward. She caught the eye of the hostess, who gaped at her and resulted in Draco to turn around curiously, wondering what brought out such reaction.

His eyes widened appreciatively as he took all of her in, a corner of his lips curling affectionately.

Hermione donned a sleeveless, floor length red dress. The skirt consisted of many thin, floaty layers that made Hermione feel ethereal and willowy. It had a scooped neckline that showed off a tempting sliver of cleavage. The thick straps were ruffled, matching the trim on the back of her dress; it had a deep part, showing off the creamy skin on her back. Hermione had swept her curls into a messy updo and kept her makeup simple, swiping a heart-stopping red lipstick on her lips.

"Merlin," she heard Draco mutter as he walked to her.

He took her hand and delicately brushed his lips against her knuckles, his sparkling grey eyes staring at her intently.

"You look… breathtaking," he told her simply.

She blushed, ducking her head slightly but Draco was quick to very gently grip her chin with his thumb and forefinger, raising her head. Her heart began to race as she looked into his quicksilver eyes, which gazed back at her as though she were the most wondrous woman in the world.

"You always do," she responded, nibbling on her lower lip.

He gently pulled on her chin to pull her lip from her teeth and gave her a soft smile.

"Come on, I'm sure your reservation's ready," he winked, taking her hand and leading her to the hostess.

Hermione gave the hostess a smug look and received a sour one in return, following their waiter into the dining room. The sounds of cutlery and conversations stopped once Hermione and Draco were spotted and the waiter actually hesitated for a moment before continuing to lead them to their table.

The waiter moved to pull out Hermione's chair for her but Draco beat him to the punch and gave her a smirk as he gestured for her to take a seat. He gently pushed her chair in, intentionally brushing his fingertips against her arms; his smirk grew as her skin broke out in goose bumps before finally moving to sit in his chair.

Once the waiter had taken their drink orders, the noise in the restaurant grew again as everybody focused on their own conversations. Draco gave his head a shake but Hermione could spy a corner of his lips quirked smugly.

"Hi," he said to her, leaning forward.

"Hey," she smiled, brushing her fingertip against the silk tablecloth.

"So, what's the special occasion?" Draco smirked knowingly, arching a pale eyebrow.

"Can't a witch dress up for her wizard and then treat him to dinner?" Hermione asked him in a playful tone.

A blazing look came into his eyes, turning them into pools of pewter as he leaned forward.

"Oh, I'm yours, am I? I suppose that would make you mine, too," he drawled in a low voice. "You do look very nice, Miss Granger. That is a very lovely dress. However, I take issue with the color you chose."

The corners of Hermione's lips twitched but she forced herself to stay serious.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong with the color red, Mister Malfoy."

"Maybe not, but it'll be _that_ more rewarding once I rip it off your body," he whispered seductively.

Hermione bit her lip, flushing.

Their waiter arrived with their drinks and Draco requested some more time to peruse the menu, having spent their time flirting. Once they decided on the dishes, they set their menus down and looked at each other.

_Well, there's no time like the present._

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the arrival of their waiter, who took their orders before vanishing yet again. Hermione took a swig of her wine while Draco watched with an inquisitive look on his face.

"Hermione, what is it?"

"First off, I'd like to start by wishing you a happy birthday. I can't begin to explain just how thankful I feel that you're sharing such a special day with me. Yes, I'm a little peeved that you didn't tell me but I figured you didn't want me to make a big deal out of it. Am I wrong?"

He chuckled softly, raising his glass before taking a sip.

"Nothing gets past you, love. You are correct. And thank _you_, for organizing this."

"I couldn't just sit by idly, Draco, you know that."

"I do and I appreciate it," he smiled at her, reaching over to take her hand in his and giving it a squeeze.

But before she could confess her love and her secret, their food arrived and even though it smelled mouthwatering, Hermione's stomach was twisted in knots. She watched as he began to eat, nodding approvingly as he chewed and she couldn't help but smile a little bit.

Draco looked up and cleaned his mouth as he finished swallowing.

"What is it, Hermione? Is that not what you ordered?"

"No, no… it's what I ordered. I just… I find that I'm not so hungry, all of a sudden," she explained quietly, drawing her wand.

His eyes widened, eyeing her wand warily before looking at her.

"Hermione?"

_Does he really think I'm going to hex him?_

"I'm not going to hex you, Draco," she told him flatly. "_Muffliato!_"

After slipping her wand back into purse, she turned back to Draco and saw him watching her apprehensively.

"What does that do?"

"It's a charm to prevent people from eavesdropping," Hermione told him shortly.

"Oh."

Her stomach felt like a quivering mess while her hands had turned clammy.

"Okay, Hermione, you're beginning to unnerve me. What's so urgent that you don't want to get eavesdropped on? Couldn't you just wait until we get home?"

"I can't. I feel… I haven't been sleeping well and my hunger's non-existent," she told him softly. "I have to tell you before I burst."

"Okay, well… let's hear it, then," he nodded, setting his fork down.

Hermione licked her lips, forcing herself to keep eye contact with him.

"I've never told anybody this," she whispered, wringing her fingers.

"Not even Weasley?"

"Especially not Ron."

"What about Potter?"

"I'm not sure if you may have noticed, but after I reached the part of Ron leaving us during the horcrux hunt, I hesitated," she told Draco, ignoring his question.

"I noticed, yes," he nodded, tensing at his disregarded inquiry.

"Yes, well… I'd been so heartbroken that Ron had just walked out on us like that. Harry was practically catatonic while I cried every night before going to bed since I found that the exhaustion I felt afterwards helped me sleep. I feel so despondent, so alone even if we were both equally miserable. We hardly spoke, barely looked at one another… I suspect we felt equally guilty for his departure even if we weren't to blame," Hermione began, eyes glazing over with tears. "One night, I'd been having a nightmare and Harry woke me up, climbing into the bunk with me. I'd clung to him, whimpering with tears running down my face. We'd both been so distant that I couldn't help but burrow further into his warmth. I'm not sure how it started or who initiated it… but we ended up having intercourse."

Hermione saw Draco's face pale before her eyes and continued her tale.

"We'd both been desperate for human touch, not to mention so downtrodden by our strenuous journey which frankly made us feel like we were going nowhere…"

"So you thought that having sex with Potter would make things better?" he questioned, gripping his glass of Odgen's Old tightly.

"No! No, of course no—"

"Did you think Potter would get struck by inspiration as he fucked you?" he spat, narrowing his steely eyes at her.

Hermione let out a tiny sob and shook her head vehemently.

"No!"

Draco clenched his jaw, his eyes burning as he stared at her with something akin to dislike etched on his face.

"I can see why you wouldn't tell Weasley. Wouldn't want him to think the worst of the two people he cherished the most in the world."

Hermione's tears finally escaped her eyes and flew everywhere as she continued to shake her head.

"I knew it was something he'd never be able to get over. He was tired of—"

"Spare me. I don't care about his insecurities, well founded as they may be," Draco snapped at her.

Hermione blanched, biting her lip.

"Draco…" she began, clasping her hands together as if in prayer.

"Why did you choose to tell me and not him?" he demanded, leaning forward.

Her gut roiled at the disgust in his eyes.

"Because I didn't want there to be any secrets between us," she murmured, looking down at her lap.

"Does Potter's wife know?"

"No," she whispered.

"So you kept it your dirty little secret… which you've now included me in. Bloody great," Draco muttered acerbically.

"It's because I trust you and I've never felt more like myself when I'm around you…"

"Was that the only time you and Potter fucked?"

"Yes, it was only one time. We didn't speak of it afterwards though we seemed to come to a silent agreement that we'd take it to our graves because we know it would undoubtedly hurt somebody."

"A little too late for that, I think," Draco told her curtly.

She looked up into his eyes pleadingly.

"I'm sorry, Draco…"

"Who knew the Gryffindor Princess was such a little slag? That she wouldn't open her legs to anybody but the Chosen One," he sneered, taking a long drink of his Odgen's Old.

"That's not true! We didn't even kiss, for crying out loud!"

"I'm guessing you gave your virginity to him."

"Yes," she murmured, looking down in shame.

"Of _fucking_ course," he scoffed, shaking his head. "Didn't you think of Potter's girl then, Granger? How what you did would affect her? Of course you didn't. You were too self-involved to think of anybody but yourselves!"

Hermione squirmed in her chair, mortified.

"I bet you didn't think of Weasley and Weasley until after the fact, after reaching the end of your… mindless rutting," he croaked out.

Hermione looked up at Draco, who looked conflicted in between feeling anger and pain.

"By Salazar, I was so wrong," he whispered to himself. "You're nothing but a slag. A thoughtless bitch, really."

Hermione flinched at the venom in Draco's words.

"You pretend to be such a perfect witch when… you're really not. I mean, you've been hiding this gargantuan secret for all these years! Merlin, I was definitely wrong about you. What a bloody disappointment."

"Draco, please… I know it was wrong of me to keep something of that caliber to myself and I was selfish not to think of how something like that might have affected Ginny or Ron… but there's no need for name calling," she told him firmly if in a quiet voice.

He gave a look of deepest dislike and shook his head.

"You had no trouble deceiving Weasley… what makes you think you won't do it to me?"

"I won't!"

"Easy for you to say, Granger," he told her bitterly.

"We can get through this, Draco. I just wanted to be open with you. I wanted to correct the mistakes I made in a past relationship in order to better the one I'm in."

"Relationship?" he laughed cruelly. "Do you really expect me to stay with you after what you've just told me?"

Hermione froze and knew he was serious. His upper lip was curled and his eyes flashed with repugnance, his jaw clenched tightly.

_He hates me. Oh, gods… he hates me._

"Please… please Draco…"

"Don't be so pathetic, Granger," he spat. "If Potter were single, I'd recommend you go after him again. But seeing that he's married… but hey. Maybe he'll keep you on the side, eh? How good was your sex? That'll definitely help him come to a decision."

Hermione gaped at him, unable to believe the Draco Malfoy before her was the man who'd held her after she'd ran out of her wedding.

_But what if… what if I tell him that I love him? Could that possibly turn things around? He's said terrible things, yes, but we can work through this, I know we can._

"Draco, listen—"

"No, _you_ listen, Granger. I've heard enough. I'm done," he cut in.

"But Draco, it's important!"

"I don't care," he told her coldly, throwing his napkin atop his plate.

"Draco, please! I l—"

"No! Goodbye, Granger," he told her loudly, his lower lip trembling.

Hermione knew they were undoubtedly the center of attention, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care at the moment. But before she could utter a response to Draco, he stalked away.

"Draco!" she called pathetically, running after him.

To her distress, he'd Apparated by the time she stepped outside the restaurant. She let out a sob, feeling as though her legs had turned to jelly and Apparated home before she collapsed on the street, making further spectacle of herself.

_There's no doubt we won't be making headlines tomorrow._

As soon as she got home, Hermione stumbled on her carpet and fell to her knees. She cried, letting out heart-aching sobs. She crawled to her couch, leaning against it before burying her face in her arms and crying into them.

_He didn't even give me a chance to tell him that I love him. Looks like Draco Malfoy wasn't so changed after all._

* * *

I'm so sorry if the turn of events frustrates anybody. D: But it had to be done. I can only hope Draco's outburst came across as credible.

As always, thank you for taking the time to read! :)


	38. Chapter 38

Warning: Long author's note ahead. If you're not interested, go ahead and skip to the break. :)

First of all, I want to thank everyone who took the time to review. You guys were the epitome of class despite feeling so obviously let down by the previous the chapter. You guys could have so easily been nasty and petty about it but you didn't and I genuinely thank you for that. I tried my best to respond to everyone, but there was someone I missed because I tried to click the link in the email and there was a message about how the message had expired (oh, the woes of being on 'mobile.'). So I apologize for that, dear reader.

I just want to let you guys know that I understand why you feel the way you do. Believe me, I do. Things had been going to smoothly between Draco and Hermione, and they had been intimate and it looked like they were leading to exchanging 'I love you's. Hell, even at the beginning of the chapter, Hermione was practically on cloud nine. But then that last part was like a bucketful of cold water. Although it hadn't been written, that was the way I'd planned things to happen. I didn't do it just because, or to be an ass but because I think that, ultimately, it will help them in the long run.

I'm aware that things don't seem salvageable at this point, but you guys gotta trust me. I may not have everything written, but I do have an outline of what's going to happen. So you better believe I'm going to give them a happy ending because they deserve no less.

The concerns you guys had about Draco's outburst _will_ be dealt with in a future chapter as will everything dealing with Ginny and Harry. Faith, trust, pixie dust and all that jazz, guys.

To those of you still reading, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You da real MVP. ;)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Hermione sat at her desk, lost in thought when a knock on the door broke her from her reverie. She straightened her back and set her quill down before calling out for whoever knocked to enter.

To her surprise, Blaise Zabini entered with a smirk on his face. She felt a twinge in her heart at the sight of it since it looked so much like _his._

"Blaise, good afternoon. What brings you to my humble office?" she smiled, shaking her nostalgia away.

"It's anything _but_ humble, Granger," he snorted, motioning to the bookcases that lined her walls along with the lovely (if fake) view from the French windows behind her.

"I need those books you know," she told him in a terse voice though she smiled to let him know she was joking.

"Of course you do, Granger," Blaise chuckled. "As to my presence, I come to bring you an invitation."

He pulled it from inside his robes and held it out to her before leaning against her chairs. Hermione quirked an eyebrow as she took it from him.

"Who's getting married?" she joked, noticing her name printed on the envelope.

"I am, actually."

Hermione started and stared up at him. Blaise had a small smile on his face, obviously from the shock on hers.

"I didn't know you were seeing someone seriously," she smiled, running her finger along the edge of the envelope.

"I wasn't, not seriously enough for marriage anyway," he shrugged.

She noticed that he was behaving much more aloofly than usual and frowned.

"You don't seem too happy…"

He sighed and dropped gracefully into one of her chairs.

"It's a marriage of convenience, Granger."

"Oh…"

Hermione heart's twisted at the thought marrying someone you didn't love.

"Why?" she questioned softly.

"I doubt I'll ever find true love… not that I used to look for it, mind you," he rolled his eyes. "But perhaps it's time I settled down. Daphne's a nice girl and, perhaps in time…"

"Daphne?"

"Yes, Daphne Greengrass. Slytherin, our year. She's quiet, at least compared to Pansy, who she used to hang out with back in school."

"There won't be any problems with me attending, will they?" Hermione asked, biting her lip.

She didn't want to incite any fights, considering that the wedding was bound to be attended by Slytherins.

"Not at all. Although… I should mention… Draco's my best man."

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat at Blaise mentioning him before the usual pang of sorrow and regret hit her.

"Then perhaps I oughtn't," she told him quietly, trying to swallow the knot in her throat.

Blaise watched her keenly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"It's been three months, hasn't it?"

"Yes," she whispered, grinding her teeth together.

"Then maybe you ought to go," Blaise shrugged. "Enough time has passed, I think. Besides, it's not like you'll actively look for each other."

"Not intentionally, anyway. I know part of me would be on the lookout for him," Hermione admitted. "I take it you've… you've seen him?"

"I do, yes."

"Ah."

"He's been better," Blaise said, reading her mind.

"Haven't we all?" Hermione muttered under her breath. "Thank you for the invitation, Blaise."

"I hope you'll attend, Granger. There's not many people I like, but you're one of them and I'd really like to see you there," he told her, rising to his feet. "Besides… I think you and Draco need to talk."

"Talk? There's nothing to talk about, Blaise. Not when he made it so clear to me what he thought of me," she responded bitterly.

"Draco's calmed down enough, Granger. I'm not trying to make excuses for him, but he's always been one to let his emotions get the better of him. I don't doubt it was any different with you," he shrugged, leaning against the doorway.

"There's little doubt in my mind he's changed his mind, Blaise. You didn't _see_ him… I'll never forget the disdain and disgust in his eyes and it was directed at me. It was like being in Hogwarts all over again," she responded quietly. "I deserve better than that."

"I'm sorry, Granger," Blaise told her genuinely. "You didn't deserve that. Although I don't know _what_ exactly happened to cause this between the two of you… I'd still like you to be there when I get married. I know you're mature enough not to seek him out and to let things be. I hope you change your mind about attending."

Hermione was left speechless.

_I would have thought that he would have gone running to someone, ready to complain about my 'misdeeds.' As far as I know, they're close friends… so why didn't he tell Blaise what happened?_

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, knowing she was going to attend Blaise's wedding.

_How could I not when he's been so polite and friendly with me? It's the least I can do. Besides, he's right. I'm not going to seek him out. I'll be there to support my friend and will have fun even if I die trying._

Hermione huffed softly and rolled her eyes at how morbid she sounded.

"These Slytherins will be the death of me," she muttered, picking up her quill and going back to her paperwork.

-x-

Hermione studied her reflection in the mirror, attempting to fight the nerves that were tying her stomach in knots.

_I haven't seen Draco since his birthday. I know he resigned his job at the Ministry but other than that, I've no idea what he's done with himself. I would have never asked Blaise either. It really is none of my business what he has or hasn't been up to. He decided that the night he stormed out on me._

She gulped loudly and gritted her teeth together, forcing herself to focus on her appearance once more. Hermione had chosen the lightest pink satin dress with a flared skirt that fell just below her knees. The skirt had two slits in them that made the dress look all the more swingy. It had a line of pearl buttons down the back along with a sheer panel across Hermione's shoulders and chest. The material had been woven with golden threads, giving it a shimmering effect. The sleeves fell a little above the crook of her elbow, sheer as well.

_It might look simple but it makes me feel elegant and willowy and I need all the positive thoughts I can give myself to get through today._

Hermione had slipped her feet into a pair of strappy nude sandals and magicked her hair into a slightly messy chignon, leaving tendrils of hair to frame her face. She went easy on the makeup, wanting to look pretty but still recognizable. She slipped a couple of sparkling bangles on her wrists, simple diamond studs on her ears and she was ready to go.

Hermione eyed herself one last time, looking at herself critically.

_I feel like I'm missing something…_

She smiled slightly, knowing what she was missing and took her wand, slipping one of her many bangles off. After transfiguring it into a headband, she slipped it onto her head and grinned.

"That's it," she nodded, looking at herself from different angles.

The overall look made Hermione look like a princess.

She glanced at the clock and sprayed herself with perfume before grabbing her bag and headed to the door. She took a deep breath, straightening her posture and walking out of the suite and toward the den of snakes.

She could hear the music and chatter long before she arrived, feeling the palms of her hands grow clammy.

_What am I doing here? What made me think I could do this?_

She stepped outside, admiring the beautiful weather despite her sullen mood and headed for the massive white marquee.

_Good lord, you're a Gryffindor! Get a grip of yourself. If you didn't show, Blaise would be very disappointed…_

She paused for a moment outside the tent before stepping in, holding her posture even taller. She heard several conversations stop as she was spotted, whispers breaking out. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes and searched desperately for Blaise.

She may have been a nervous wreck but the dress made her confident, sashaying toward the man when she spotted him.

"Blaise!" she smiled uncertainly.

He gave a once over and grinned before reaching out to take her hand and pressing a kiss on her knuckles.

"My, oh my, Hermione. You look beautiful," Blaise said, giving her an appreciative look.

She blushed despite it all and pulled him into a hug. He froze for a moment before embracing her back, pulling seconds later away.

_Oh, these Slytherins and their upbringings._

"Thank you, Blaise. For the compliment, for inviting me… Zabini estate is very beautiful," she nodded, feeling her nerves lessen.

"I'm pleased you decided to come after all. I know there aren't many people you know from school but I guarantee that there's someone here you could talk to. Aside from Draco, of course," he rolled his eyes.

"Oh? Who is it?" she asked curiously, ignoring the way her stomach clenched at hearing his name.

"Anthony Goldstein, he's a friend of Daphne's. He should be around somewhere," he shrugged easily.

"Thanks, Blaise. I'll, er, be on the lookout for him."

"I think he might even be single," he mused, winking at her.

Hermione blushed and gave him a disapproving look.

"You didn't invite me here to set me up with him, did you?"

"Not with him, no," he chuckled smoothly.

"Oh, Blaise," she shook her head, smiling. "I'll just go take a seat now. Don't want to be accused of monopolizing the soon-to-be groom."

He leaned and pressed a kiss on her cheek before winking at her once more.

"Have fun," he whispered, turning to someone who'd called his name.

She remained rooted to her spot for a few seconds before taking a quick breath and turning, searching for an empty table. She spotted one in the corner and made her way quickly before someone got in her way. Hermione frowned up at the man, ready to reprimand whoever it was for their lack of manners and froze.

_Draco._

To her chagrin, her heart fluttered in her chest at the sight of him. She found him to look as haughty and handsome as ever and felt something like disappointment twist her stomach.

"Granger."

"Malfoy," she spoke coolly, despite the emotions roiling inside of her.

"What brings _you_ here?"

"I was invited, of course," she replied haughtily.

He lifted a pale eyebrow and gave her a look of disbelief.

"_Zabini_ invited you?"

"Who else? I'm certainly not a friend of Greengrass," she scoffed.

He looked staggered for a moment before sneering at her.

"I wasn't aware you and Zabini were close pals."

She tilted her head slightly and gave him a sly smile.

"_I_ wasn't aware I had to give you a list of people I'm close to."

Draco glared at her then, clearly unamused.

"I _never_—"

"As much as you think the world revolves around you, I didn't come here to quarrel with you. Now, if you'll excuse me…" she trailed off, giving him an overly sweet smile.

"_Hermione Granger_?"

She turned toward the voice and saw Anthony Goldstein gaping at her. Hermione could have sworn Draco had growled softly but didn't pay him any further attention.

"Anthony! How pleasant to see _you_. It's been ages, hasn't it?" she grinned, stepping closer to him.

He stared at her for a couple of more seconds before shaking himself and grinning at her.

"It sure has. It's good to see you too! I would have never thought that I would have ran into you here," he chuckled, delighted.

"Fate has a funny way of working things out," she smiled mysteriously.

"That is does."

Before Draco could have a chance to interrupt, Hermione leaned over and kissed Anthony's cheek. He looked taken aback but pleased.

"Were you about to take a seat?" she asked him, still ignoring Draco.

_I can almost feel his anger radiate from him… serves him right, the git. I certainly don't owe him anything._

"Yes, you don't mind if I sit with you, do you? I'm afraid I don't really know anybody else aside from Daphne."

"I'd love that," she laughed, motioning for him to follow her.

To her amusement, Draco was still standing there with a look of utmost disapproval on his handsome face.

"I'd _loathe_ interrupting you two lovebirds, so I'll just be on my way."

"Bye!" she chirped before grabbing hold of Anthony's arm and pulling him along.

Draco gave her a glare of deepest hatred and stalked off. Hermione could almost see the rain clouds hovering over his fair head and held back her laughter.

Once Hermione and Anthony settled in their seats, he turned to her and gave her a bright smile.

"You really do look beautiful, Hermione. I still can't believe I'm sitting here next to you," he told her earnestly.

She flushed and nodded her thanks.

"I don't want to be nosy… but was it really true that you and Malfoy used to date?" he asked apprehensively.

_Ah, I wondered when he was going to ask. Better get it out of the way, I suppose._

"Yes, we dated for a while. Obviously nothing came of it," she shrugged, hoping to look as indifferent as possible.

"What about you and Weasley?"

"Oh, I haven't seen _him_ in ages. I couldn't quite face him after he sent Dra— Malfoy to St. Mungo's."

Anthony's golden brows rose and he stared at her in shock.

"I never really cared for Weasley. Sure, he was Potter's best friend but…" he trailed off, clearly unsure whether his words would offend Hermione.

"It's okay, I understand," she told him quickly.

"Particularly since you were his girlfriend," he chuckled warmly. "I'd fancied you sixth year and when we went back after the war."

Hermione smiled shyly, feeling her face redden.

_He's not a bad looking man. I could easily see myself caring for him._

She looked into his sky blue eyes and blushed deeper. His golden hair shimmered, tousled. He had long, pale eyelashes that framed his eyes beautifully. His lips were a pale pink if a little on the small side.

_Nope, I could most definitely get used to seeing his face._

"I'm afraid that my mind was focused elsewhere, so I didn't have much of a chance to really pay attention to you," she chuckled, looking away for a moment.

In that instant she caught a pair of grey eyes glaring daggers at her. She, in turn, fixed her face into the impassive mask she learned from him and turned back to Anthony, who had been watching her. He blushed and took a sip of champagne while Hermione stuck to water.

"So what have you been up to?" she asked him.

"I'm a professor at Hogwarts, actually," he grinned.

"That's marvelous! What do you teach?"

"Charms."

"How do you like teaching? I've considered sending in an application to Minerva. I mean, I still work at the Ministry but I wouldn't want to work there for the rest of my life."

Her heart stung since it had been Draco who opened her mind to her future and its possibilities.

"It's great! I love it. Sure, it gets a little lonely sometimes but it's worth it, in my opinion. The salary isn't bad either."

"Good, good… that's nice to know."

"What subject would you want to teach?"

"Arithmancy," she grinned.

He groaned but ended up laughing.

"I used to detest that class! I always tried to catch up to you and Malfoy… but I always seemed to lag after the two of you."

"Hmm… that's right! You were in that class," she laughed, blushing.

"Never noticed me, huh?" he pouted attractively.

"I had other things on my mind," she blushed.

"Hey, it's okay. There's always now," he told her coyly, stretching his hand out and brushing his fingertips against the back of her hand.

She felt slight tingles at his touch and smiled bashfully.

_Maybe Draco isn't the end all, be all after all._

Still, she continued to feel his glare every so often but ignored it.

_He was the one who ended things, why should he feel threatened? It's been three months… three silent, cold, heartbreaking months._

Anthony must have sensed the change in her mood because he asked if she was alright.

"I'm fine. Fancy a walk? I have yet to see the grounds…"

"I'd like that," he smiled, grabbing two flutes of champagne and handing one to her.

She smiled her thanks and took hold of Anthony's arm, looping hers through his as they exited the tent. Now, more than ever, she felt Draco's intense gaze on her but like previously, ignored it.

"So had you been to Italy before this?" he asked her.

"Yes. Twice," she answered shortly.

"Did you like it?" he pressed.

"It was nice. I've always been a huge fan of Italian culture and cuisine," she smiled.

"Me too! Totally going to boast here, but I make delicious Italian desserts," he grinned impishly.

"Oh, is that so?" she chuckled, turning to look at him.

His golden hair looked like silken honey in the waning sunlight and Hermione couldn't help but smile.

_What is it about blond men that render me stupid?_

"Definitely. Maybe… we could get together sometime and I could make something for you," he suggested, tensing slightly beneath her touch.

_Is he… is he nervous? How strangely charming._

"I'd like that," she told him truthfully.

Anthony grinned, relieved and took a sip of champagne.

_Don't you dare think about Malfoy, Hermione. He made his bed and now he's going to lie in it. Here's a man who clearly likes you and you're thinking of him._

"But first, don't you think you should ask me to be your date tomorrow?" she asked him boldly.

He looked slightly taken aback but smiled brilliantly at her nonetheless.

"I'd love it you gave me the pleasure of your company tomorrow, Hermione," he told her breathlessly.

"I'd love it as well, Anthony," she nodded.

He grinned and made a victorious gesture with his hand, causing Hermione to laugh.

_Merlin, it feels good to laugh after what I've been through. Maybe this is the right thing to do._

Not much later, they were called to dinner and they walked back, arm in arm. Right away she felt Draco's eyes on her but didn't give anything away, sitting down next to Anthony. He hadn't pulled her chair out for her and while Hermione wouldn't have thought anything of it, couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable.

_For crying out loud, Hermione. You've always been more than capable of pulling your own chair out. It wasn't until Malfoy came along that he had to mess that up for me too._

Blaise stood up and called for attention, smiling and thanking everybody who made time to come to their wedding. He proceeded to tell his guests about how tomorrow Draco and Astoria would both make toasts but was interrupted by none other than his best man himself.

"If you don't mind… I'd like to give everybody a taste of my toast. If you don't mind, that is," he told Blaise, who raised his brows in surprise.

"Be my guest," he shrugged elegantly.

The guests laughed but Hermione felt herself tense up. Once again, Anthony must have sensed it because he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Draco stood up, holding his glass aloft and smiled down at his friend.

"I've known Blaise for many years now. Of course, we weren't always friends. We always used to fight over childish, vain trivialities. But when we realized that joining our efforts would prove much more effective, we quickly became friends. Now, Blaise had never really shown any preferences for a girl in particular but I always knew that whoever he'd chose would be the one who'd hold his heart forever."

Many guests went _aww _at that point but Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes.

_He's playing them like a fiddle and they're all falling for it. At least you know better now, Hermione._

"Because love is the most precious thing in the world. It isn't a word that one merely throws around. Of course… that doesn't stop it from happening. One fancies themselves in love when in reality it's nothing more than a shattered illusion of what love ought to be. It feels so good to be cared for but truthfully… it's nothing lasting despite having known it all along. Blaise here, on the other hand, was lucky enough to happen upon true love. For that, Blaise, my congratulations."

He raised his glass and Hermione felt herself seethe in anger and pain. She wanted nothing more than to storm out but knew people would either become suspicious or think she was mad.

_Is that what he really thinks, then? Oh, Malfoy… I'll show you 'shattered illusion.'_

Instead, she forced herself to clap along and gave a little smile to Anthony, who seemed to have been watching her.

"He always did have a silver tongue," she joked lightly, taking a long drink of champagne.

_Keep it together, Hermione! Don't let him see just how much he's… damn it, that bastard! I could _**_curse _**_something._

Thankfully their dinner appeared before long and Hermione was more than glad to stuff food into her mouth to keep her from snarling. Unfortunately, she couldn't eat all evening so when Blaise's guests got up to dance, Hermione knew it was her cue to leave.

"Would you like to dance, Hermione?" Anthony asked her.

"Oh, I'd like to but I'm afraid all the champagne I've drank has gone to my head," she lied, furrowing her forehead.

"Would you like for me to walk you to your room?"

"Yes, please," she smiled, standing up and swaying slightly.

Anthony steadied her, pressing his warm hand against her lower back and leading her toward the mouth of the tent. Hermione felt that so many people were dancing and knew Blaise wouldn't miss her. She did, however, feel a certain pair of stormy eyes follow her into the night, trying her best to push down her rage.

Once they were standing outside, Hermione shivered slightly. Being the gentleman he was, Anthony immediately draped his arm around her shoulders; even in the moonlight she could see him blushing and Hermione smiled.

"Thank you," she whispered. "It looks so beautiful at night… I'd like nothing more than a stroll but I'm afraid I'd end up passing out."

"How about tomorrow night, then?" he whispered back near her ear.

"Sounds lovely," she smiled, suddenly startled at their nearness.

_Oh, Merlin… is he going to kiss me? Do I _**_want _**_him to kiss me? Or is it too soon? Maybe I don't want him to kiss me because he's not…_

"Let's get you inside, would hate for you to catch a cold."

She gave him a grateful look and they walked inside in silence.

_I wonder what's going through his head. Is it possible he knows that, despite everything, a masochistic part of me still cares for Malfoy? I like Anthony but I don't want to lead him on…_

They arrived at her door and he removed his arm from her shoulders, taking a step away from her.

"It was good to see you, Anthony," she told him truthfully.

He smiled and nodded.

"It was great to see you as well. Sleep well, Hermione. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," she said shyly.

He leaned toward her and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, looking into her eyes for a moment before taking off. Hermione released a deep breath and felt a tiny flutter in her stomach.

_I can't hurt him. I need to be honest with him. Maybe if we took things slowly…_

She was about to close her door when she saw something move from the corner of her eye. Hermione turned and saw _him_ leaning against the wall, giving her an insouciant smile.

"I must confess I'm surprised you didn't invite him in, Granger," he drawled, inspecting his nails lazily.

She stuck her chin out defiantly and glared at him, trying to ignore the way his comment stung her.

"I fail to see how it's any of your business whether I do or don't, Malfoy," she snapped.

"Touched a nerve, have I?" he asked, letting out a sharp bark of laughter.

"Not at all. Although I'm not surprised to see you skulking about."

He pushed himself off and straightened, glaring back at her.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked her softly.

"Shouldn't you be elsewhere? Like trying to get into the maid of honor's knickers?" she questioned nastily.

Draco looked confused for a moment before masking it, a leer taking its place.

"Jealous, Granger?" he smirked.

"Not at all. I'd just thought you had better things to do than bothering with little old me."

He stared at her for a long moment before clenching his jaw together and stepping closer to her. The moonlight streaming in made his hair look silver and his skin like the finest marble. Hermione was barely able to hold back a gasp and instead stumbled back into the room as he watched her curiously.

"That was a _lovely_ toast, by the way."

He snapped from whatever thoughts he may have had running through his head and narrowed his eyes at Hermione.

"I knew it would resonate with you," he shrugged.

_You unfeeling bastard._

Hermione remained quiet and gave a dignified shrug. That, however, seemed to annoy him and he let out a soft growl. She became distracted momentarily by the noise, remembering the last time she'd heard it. She blushed and shook her head, frowning at herself.

_Focus, damn you!_

"My toast for tomorrow night is even nicer, if _I do_ say so myself. I think Astoria will certainly appreciate it," he said softly, maliciously.

Hermione felt herself freeze, willing herself not to break down in front of him.

"I wish you the best of luck, Malfoy. Merlin knows _she'll_ need it with the likes of you. I don't think I'll be staying long enough to hear it, though."

"Why's that, Granger?" he asked, looking interested. "Afraid you'll burst into tears at seeing me propose to her?"

_Keep calm, keep calm…_

"Not at all, Malfoy," she said loftily. "It's just that... you see, Anthony and I have a full night ahead of us."

She grinned wickedly and watched as the meaning dawned on his face. He looked distraught and then rankled before finally grimacing at her.

"Now, if you'll excuse me… need my beauty sleep. Goodnight, Malfoy," she told him abruptly, shutting the door in his surprised face.

She cast a quick Silencio in her room before falling to her knees, letting the tears fall from her eyes freely.

_Damn you, Malfoy. Damn you for still being able to affect me. But most of all, damn me for still caring when it's such a lost cause because what we had is clearly irreparable._

* * *

Remember: things will get better.

As always, thank you for reading!


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: Thanks for continuing to review, follow, and favorite the fic, everyone! I genuinely appreciate it. :)

Disclaimer: It continues to not belong to me.

* * *

Draco hadn't slept a wink last night. He stared at his pale and drowsy reflection, not only feeling tired but like the lowest human being ever.

_What possessed me to say those things to her? Salazar knows Astoria and I barely talk! What if she _**_does _**_stick around for my toast, though? She'll definitely know I was bluffing then. Still… her and Goldstein…_

Draco felt the blood running through his veins smolder at the thought of them together.

_I have no claim to her. She can do whatever – or whomever – she pleases._

A knock at the door distracted him from his thoughts. He let out a breath and opened the door, surprised to see Blaise grinning at him. But upon seeing Draco's visage the expression slipped from his face.

"What's the matter?" he frowned, entering and shutting the door behind him.

"Nothing. Everything," Draco sighed, running his fingers through his tousled hair.

"It's Hermione, isn't it?"

Draco glared at his friend.

"Since when do _you_ call her by her given name?" he demanded, eyeing Blaise suspiciously.

"Jealous, Malfoy? It's not very becoming," he grinned, clapping a hand against his stiff back.

Still, Draco was unamused and continued to watch Blaise intently.

"We were friendly at Hogwarts after the war," he shrugged, picking at invisible lint from his robes. "Plus, we work in the same department at the Ministry."

_I didn't know they worked together._

"_How_ friendly?"

Blaise gave him a curious look, cocking his head slightly.

"What's wrong with you?" his friend asked, looking deeply concerned.

"I couldn't even begin to list all the things that are wrong with me," Draco mumbled under his breath.

"If you weren't such a stubborn arse then Hermione—"

"Can you not call her that?" he snapped. "At least not around me."

Blaise heaved a heavy sigh.

"You never did tell me why you broke things off with her."

"It's none of your business," Draco answered curtly.

"Maybe if you told someone, you'd be more tolerable."

Draco glared at his friend for a few seconds before he sighed wearily, rubbing his face with his hand.

"What I'm about to divulge doesn't leave this room, understood? On my birthday, she confessed to me that she… had sex with Potter," he scowled, trying to keep her distressed face from that night from his mind's eye.

"When did it happen?"

"Our seventh year... when they were gone from school."

Blaise raised a dark eyebrow and eyed his friend before finally responding, "Is that it? Is that what's got your knickers in a twist?"

Draco stared at his friend for several accelerated heartbeats before exploding.

"What do you mean 'is that it'? You make it sound like I'm making a big fuss out of nothing!"

"You _are_. You're being ridiculous," Blaise told him simply with a shrug.

"And _why_ am I being ridiculous? Do pray tell," he hissed, crossing his arms tightly against his chest.

"You let your jealousy and inferiority issues, whatever the the likes of _you_ could possibly have anyway, get the best of you, mate. It was obviously something she had never spoken of before and she trusted _you_ enough. But instead of… accepting her or whatever it was she wanted, you had a hissy fit and threw it in her face. I mean, she was with you for a reason and I doubt it had anything to do with your gold or name," he reasoned, shrugging.

Draco felt dumbstruck by his friend's earnest words for a moment before chilly horror gripped his heart.

"But she never told me she loved me!"

"Did you give her a chance to?" Blaise asked him patiently.

Draco recalled the last few moments before he stormed out, feeling as though all his blood had left his body and sagged against the wall.

"That's what I thought," Blaise said, looking maddeningly smug. "Look, Draco. It's clear as day that you love her. Aren't you the tiny bit curious _why_ she's here?"

At that, Draco snapped his attention back to Blaise.

"Why's she here?" he asked breathlessly.

"I might have conspired…" he grinned mischievously.

"Conspired to what?" Draco asked urgently.

"To get the two of you back together, you git. Why else," he rolled his eyes, flopping down on Draco's bed.

Draco froze for a few seconds, unable to believe his ears.

"You aren't the only one who's been miserable, you know," Blaise told him quietly, avoiding his gaze.

Draco was swept with remorse and let it gnaw at him, knowing he deserved that and much more.

"Not once did she mention you, you know," Blaise informed him. "Though I could tell she wanted nothing more than to ask about you. I could see it eat at her, wanting to know of you, but her dignity held her back. You hurt her tremendously and it will take short of a miracle for her to talk to you, let alone take you back. But I know you love her and would move heaven and earth should it please her. Don't screw it up, mate. You only have one more chance and you don't want to spend it being unpleasant to her. Apologize and tell her how you feel. I practically had to beg her to attend the wedding which goes to show _how_ hesitant she was about being near you. But I think… part of her wanted to see you. The part of her that possibly loves you, you arse. Besides, there's no way she would have risked being in a room full of Slytherins otherwise."

Draco groaned and screwed his eyes shut but took Blaise's words to heart.

"Although she's gotten along much too well with Goldstein. I hadn't expected that."

"He used to fancy her," Draco grunted.

"Ah… makes sense now. The way he kept looking at her…"

Draco growled and opened his eyes, glaring at Blaise, who looked far too pleased with himself.

"You're right, I need to make things right," he murmured. "Before they run off into the night and do Merlin knows what."

"I'm guessing they're the reason for your, er, toast last night?"

Draco felt ashamed of himself and nodded, grimacing. He felt, if possible, even worse once he thought of Blaise, who was marrying without being in love.

"To make things worse, I followed them after he escorted her out."

"Of course you did," Blaise said, rolling his eyes.

Draco gave him a sharp look.

"Just to make sure he didn't get _too_ comfortable with her. Anyway, I behaved abominably with her after he left," he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "She wasn't much nicer either."

"I can't imagine why," Blaise responded sarcastically.

Draco shot him another glare before sighing.

"You should probably drink something. You look terrible," Blaise told him gleefully.

"Yeah, yeah… thanks for the support," he grouched.

"I _do_ support you, Draco. Surely you know that. But you've gone and put your foot in your mouth as always," he scolded, frowning at him.

"I can't lose her to Goldstein. He's too much of a goody-goody for her," Draco bristled, rising to his feet.

"Mate, you must have forgotten just how many times _you_ called her that," his friend snickered.

He scowled at Blaise and shrugged, "Yes, but two goody-goody's together... the world might just implode."

"And you'd be a better match for her?" he asked skeptically, enjoying Draco's sour look.

"I may or may not be," Draco admitted reluctantly, "but there's no way I'll wonder 'what if' for the rest of my life."

"That's the spirit!" Blaise encouraged, standing up as well. "But, er… you might want to lose those purple splotches under your eyes first. And you might want to comb your hair because it's starting to resemble Potter's—"

Draco hissed at the green-eyed wizard's name and Blaise actually flinched before giving his friend an apologetic look.

_I don't want to hear the git's name even if it's not his fault. Merlin, but do I need to get over my issues._

"You're right… nothing a simple Glamour won't cover," he muttered sullenly. "Now, get out. I need to continue getting ready."

Blaise chuckled and headed for the door.

"See you later, Draco."

"Later, Blaise… and thank you."

His friend simply nodded and walked out, leaving Draco to his thoughts and devices.

-x-

Draco smoothed his robes and continued to converse with Theodore Nott all the while keeping an eye out for Hermione. He was about to agree about something or other when she finally appeared, timidly looking around the marquee.

His breath literally caught in his throat as he looked at her, thinking she looked like a goddess come down from the heavens itself. She was wearing a dress the same color from the one she wore at the Yule Ball and Draco felt as stunned as he did when he was fourteen.

She wore a long dress that sparkled with every movement she made. The material of her skirt was gauzy, making her look ethereal. The bodice of her dress was lacy and somewhat transparent-looking while the sleeves of her dress hung off her shoulders loosely; they were tied in a dainty bow while the rest brushed down her arms. Her hair was smoothed into an elegant twisted knot though she had a few tendrils framing her beautiful face. From what he could see, she didn't pack the makeup on but he could still spy traces of it.

She'd been looking around nervously, bestowing quick smiles to those around her.

_Why can't she smile at me like that? _

_Because you're an utter tosser, that's why._

He was about to excuse himself when Hermione met up with Goldstein. He grinded his teeth together, closing his hands into tight fists when they hugged and saw red when he kissed her cheek.

"She is rather beautiful," Theo spoke out thoughtfully.

Draco blinked and turned to his ex-dormmate.

"It's a little more than obvious how you feel about her. It's written all over your face," he snickered. "Maybe you should do something about it instead of standing around and gawping at her."

"I am _not_—"

"You are too. Now go."

Draco frowned at his childhood friend but nodded gratefully at him. He quickly made his way through the crowd, politely excusing himself and doing his best not to shove people out of his way to get to Hermione faster. He had almost reached her when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"It's time," Blaise told him, swallowing thickly.

"But I—"

"It can wait. The ceremony, on the other hand, cannot. Come," he said, motioning for Draco to follow him.

He sighed softly and nodded, throwing one last look at a smiling Hermione before following his friend.

_Damn it. I should have gone to her instead of gaping at her like an idiot._

"Right, the ceremony's about to start. I just need you to stand up here next to me."

"Sure, sure," Draco told him distractedly.

He searched for her in the crowd and found her laughing with Goldstein.

_Merlin, what have I done? Have I really pushed her into his arms?_

All throughout the ceremony, Draco kept glancing at her. To his relief (and conceit), there were moments when he felt her eyes on him after looking away from her, forcing himself to look as though he was paying attention to the ceremony. Even so, a part of him felt envious of what Blaise was about to do.

_Sure, he doesn't love Daphne but at least they don't detest each other. What I wouldn't give… wait a minute, was I about to think that I want to marry her?_

To his surprise, his heart fluttered at his thoughts. He gulped nervously and chanced a glance at Hermione, who had been watching him. Her cheeks turned magenta but she didn't look away, holding her head high instead even when her eyes looked cold and distant.

_It's like they're telling me 'look on what you missed out, you oaf.' Merlin, I _**_do _**_want to marry her. A life with Hermione… Mrs. Malfoy. Mrs. Hermione Malfoy. I like the sound of that. But before indulging in that particular little fantasy, I must do right by her. Merlin, I'm such a bastard. To think I taunted her last night too._

He felt thankful once the ceremony was over; he quickly congratulated Blaise and Daphne, nodding coolly at Astoria before moving into the crowd once more, searching for her. He spotted Goldstein but she was nowhere in sight, Draco's heart crowing in delight. He exited the marquee and searched for her on the grounds; twilight was falling and Draco found that everything looked so much more magical at dusk.

He spotted her silhouette and made his way toward her, being careful not to be too quiet lest he scare her. She straightened when she heard him and heard her chuckle.

_Does she know it's me?_

"Anthony," she called out warmly.

Draco stopped in his tracks and stared at her back, surprised by how unsettled he felt.

"_Not_ Anthony," Draco drawled.

She stiffened and turned around slowly, glaring at Draco.

"Definitely not Anthony," she told him scornfully.

Despite the hurt, he still felt as though the air had been knocked out of him.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, taking a step closer to her.

Her eyebrows rose and she stared at him, lips parted slightly.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?" she questioned, watching him wearily.

"I want—"

"Hermione, there you are!"

Draco growled softly and rolled his eyes.

She pasted a smile on her face as Goldstein approached.

"Malfoy."

"Goldstein," he told him coolly.

He watched as he wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist and Draco wanted nothing more than to tear off his limb.

"How may we help you?"

Draco raised an elegant brow and stared at them.

"_You_ can't, Goldstein. Surely you saw me talking to her, didn't you?"

"Malfoy," Hermione warned him.

Draco felt his heart wither every time she called him by his surname. He remembered when all she called him was _Draco_ and sighed inwardly.

"I just want to talk to you," he said tiredly.

"Whatever you have to say you can say in front of Anthony."

"Are you two… together?" he blurted out, immediately scolding himself inwardly for losing his cool.

He saw Hermione glance at Goldstein but it was he who answered.

"Yes. Is that a problem, Malfoy?"

Draco took a step back, shocked to his bones.

"No… I… just… I'm sorry," he mumbled, turning on his heel and walking as rapidly as he could from them.

_Idiot, idiot, idiot! Of course they're together! Fuck. It's too late now. I'll never be able to apologize for being such an insensitive arse to her._

Draco walked back into the marquee but he was soon accosted by Astoria.

"Hey Draco."

"Astoria."

"Can we talk?" she asked him softly.

"Why not?" he shrugged, motioning for her to lead the way.

To his chagrin, she led him outside the marquee, not too far from where he'd left Hermione and Goldstein. She came to a stop and stared up at him, wringing her hands.

"What is it?"

"I know our relationship didn't end on the best terms…" she grimaced. "But I'd like for us to be friendly, if only for tonight. It's my sister's wedding and I'd like to have a good time."

"What makes you think _I_ don't want to have a good time?" he scowled.

"For starters, you look as though someone cursed your Crup."

Draco scoffed and looked away, crossing his arms.

_Is it that noticeable?_

"I… I still care for you, Draco. I want what's best for you. It's obvious that the homewrecker doesn't care about what you think or feel," she said bitterly.

Draco turned to stare at Astoria, glaring at her.

"What did you call her?"

"You heard me."

He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Hostility doesn't become you, Astoria," Draco told her quietly.

Her cheeks turned red but she merely straightened her posture and glared at him.

"Not because of us!" she hissed, glancing around.

"Then why?" Draco demanded.

"I'm not sure what he's told her, but Goldstein isn't as single as he's pretending to be."

Draco blinked and stalked closer to her.

"What do you mean?"

"He's with one of the Patil twins. Padma, I believe. She wasn't able to come because of work," she shrugged.

_Oh, Merlin._

After the initial rush of contempt, Draco was overwhelmed by joy.

_So the oaf lied. They're **not** together._

"Are they married?" he asked her quietly.

"No. But I'd heard rumors that he was going to propose soon."

"Bastard!" he growled.

"It takes two, Draco."

"I can assure you that she doesn't know, Astoria. Hermione would never come between—"

"Okay, whatever," she interrupted rudely. "I just want _us_ to be okay."

"Sure, sure," he nodded absently, his mind racing.

_I need to tell her before things get too far. That bastard doesn't deserve a hair on her head. Then again, neither do I, but at the very least I want—_

Before he could anticipate Astoria's next move, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Not even a second after he saw something sparkling approach from the corner of his eye. He screwed his eyes shut, knowing it was Hermione with Goldstein.

_Way to dig yourself into a deeper hole, Malfoy._

He opened his eyes and saw the shimmering train of her dress disappear into the marquee.

_Shite. I need to let her know what Astoria just told me._

He disengaged himself from her and murmured an excuse before following after Hermione. Spotting her alone, he made his way to her.

"I need to talk to you. It's urgent," he whispered hurriedly.

She startled and turned to glower at him.

"Yes, well, I have nothing to say to you!" she hissed.

"But _I_ have something of importance to say to you."

"What makes you think I'll believe anything you tell me?" she whispered angrily at him.

The fire in her brown eyes made his heart lurch in his chest. She was clearly livid at him but it was better than seeing indifference.

_As they say, there's a fine line between love and hate…_

"You're so angry… is it because you saw Astoria hugging me?"

Color rose in her cheeks but she remained quiet, glaring at him.

"Do you still care for me, Hermione?" he asked her softly, looking into her eyes.

She looked as though she'd been Stupefied by his question and he rejoiced for a second before focusing.

"I _need_ to talk to you. It's about your boy toy, Goldstein."

That snapped her out of her daze.

"He is _not_ my—"

"I _know_, Hermione. I need you to come with me… _please_."

She eyed him warily before finally nodding.

"Let me tell Anthony—"

"I'll be outside," he interrupted quietly.

She nodded tersely and left his side. Draco sighed heavily and made his way outside, pacing impatiently as he waited for her. Hermione finally appeared and Draco smiled, watching her as she approached him.

"What is it?" she asked, sounding harried.

"Not here. We'll be easily overheard. C'mon," he muttered, grabbing her wrist none too gently and pulled her along.

"Draco! Malfoy! Stop!" she squirmed.

"Sorry, Hermione, I won't risk it," he told her, loosening his grasp slightly.

She managed to tug herself loose and stared at him with wide eyes.

"If you _dare_ run away, I won't hesitate to tackle you and throw you over my shoulder," he threatened darkly.

_Oh, I'd love nothing more than to run my hands all over her. Damn it. Focus, Draco!_

She swallowed loudly and eventually nodded, following quietly. He finally came to a stop at the rose garden and listened as she gasped with delight.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

"It's… breathtaking," she murmured.

He smiled crookedly and focused his attention to her. His heart stuttered against his rib cage and he pressed his hand against it.

"You're breathtaking, Hermione," he told her reverently.

She turned to him, stunned. For a moment, her eyes melted and all of her aggression was gone to be replaced by warmth and…

"Is that why you dragged me here, Malfoy? To tell me how pretty I look?" she mocked, crossing her arms. "Or will you continue to tell me what a slag I am?

Although he greatly deserved her scathing tone, he ignored her second question.

"No! Although I truly mean it, Hermione. You're a sight for sore eyes," he told her ardently.

"What do you want, Malfoy? Shouldn't your little girlfriend be worried about your whereabouts?" she sneered, making a show of looking behind him.

"Hermione, please stop with the nastiness for a moment. I brought you here to tell you that Goldstein's not as innocent as you probably think he is."

"You want _me_ to stop with the nasti—" she started, looking highly indignant.

"_Please_," Draco cut in beseechingly.

She raised an eyebrow in doubt, eyeing him suspiciously.

"What do you mean?"

"He's got a girlfriend. Rumor is that he's going to propose to her soon."

Her lips parted and Draco wished nothing more than to kiss her.

_Later… maybe._

"What?"

"Padma Patil, I believe. She wasn't able to attend, obviously," Draco rolled his eyes.

"Who told you this?" she frowned.

"Astoria."

A look of utter disbelief crossed her face before anger exploded upon it.

"And you believe what your little girlfriend tells you? Or are you just making it up? Wouldn't put it past you," she spat.

He gripped her shoulders and shook her gently despite the annoyance he was feeling.

"I'm not lying to you, Hermione. He's the one who lied! Also, Astoria isn't my girlfriend," he said exasperatedly.

"She… what?" she frowned, looking endearingly confused.

"Okay, so I did lie to you about that. Astoria's not my girlfriend. Merlin, I hadn't even seen her since we'd called off our engagement."

"But you said…"

"I know, I know… I lied and I'm sorry. I was just seething with jealousy at seeing you with Goldstein that I wanted you to feel a little bit of what I felt. It was wrong and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such an arse. I'm sorry for everything," he breathed out, swallowing thickly.

She blinked and stared at him, tiny crease appearing between her brows.

"I should hate you, Draco Malfoy. I should curse your name and the day you were born," she told him with quiet fury.

"I know, Hermione," he gasped, shutting his eyes and letting go of her.

He waited for the blow, literal or verbal but none came. He opened his eyes and saw her staring at him, confusion and affection in her eyes.

"You've been cruel to me."

"I know, Hermione. I'm so sorry," he repeated, biting his lip.

"I should be making your life hell for what you put me through."

"I'd deserve it," he sighed gloomily.

"But I must admit that seeing you again yesterday was like taking a breath of fresh air," she whispered. "I couldn't deny the relief I felt, even though I also felt angry, confused and hurt."

"Hermione—"

"Please, let me."

He nodded, eager and curious to what she'd say next. She took a deep breath and looked around, spotting the marble bench and sitting on it. Draco, on the other hand, remained standing.

"On your birthday, I told you my darkest secret. I hadn't expected you to rejoice but I also didn't expect you to lash out at me. Needless to say, I was surprised. Though to be honest, maybe I shouldn't have been. It isn't exactly news to me that you and Harry had never been anything less than rivals. I, however, had not expected you to suffer such… low opinion of yourself. You told me hurtful things and even worse, broke things off before I could tell you that I loved you."

Draco froze, staring into Hermione's face.

"You… you…"

His heart dared to flutter with hope.

"You quit your job and I'm assuming you changed the wards to your flat. For three months, I heard nothing of you. Not a whisper."

"I'm sorry," he told her hoarsely. "Wait a minute… you assume?"

"I wouldn't have dared trespassed on your property, Draco… not even to press my ear against your door," she told him.

"I don't live there anymore."

"Oh."

"I live at the Manor."

She frowned, tilting her head slightly.

"By yourself?"

"Who else would want to live with me?" he croaked, feeling strangely ashamed.

She bit her lip and looked away from him.

_She would have. Once upon a time, anyway._

"Hermione… do you still…"

She gazed at him, dark eyes swirling with a sea of emotions.

"The crux of it is… I do," she told him, giving him a sad smile.

His heart leaped into his throat as he staggered to her, dropping to his knees.

"I love you too, Hermione," he told her hastily, feeling as though a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"The fact that we love each other isn't going to change what happened between us," she told him honestly, looking down at his face.

"Perhaps not but it wouldn't hurt to give things another try."

She looked hesitant and bit her lip once more.

"Do you want to be with me, Hermione?"

"I… don't know, Draco. You hurt me deeply."

"We'll work past it. I've missed you so much," he sighed, daring to take her hands and squeeze them.

"Draco…"

"Please give me another chance, Hermione. Promise me that you'll think about it, at the very least."

She looked into his eyes for a long moment before nodding.

"I'll think about," she responded earnestly.

"If I never hear from you, I'll know. But if you…"

"If I look for you, you'll know," she nodded, extracting a hand from his grip.

Hesitantly, she reached out and brushed her thumb across his jaw. Draco closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, savoring her touch.

"We should probably get back. I'm sure Blaise will notice that his best man has disappeared."

Draco's eyes fluttered open and saw that he was alone. He turned his face, searching for Hermione, and watched as the last of something glittering slip through the marquee.

_Her promise is the most I could hope for._

With a heavy heart, he trudged back, thinking of his love to inspire him for his toast.

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read! :)


	40. Chapter 40

A/N: Thanks for continuing to support the fic, everybody! I genuinely appreciate it. :)

Disclaimer: Not mine. _Womp womp._

* * *

The first thing Hermione did once she got home was write Anthony a strongly-worded letter about how appalled she was at his duplicity and that she hoped he pulled his head out of his arse, especially if he was considering marrying Padma because any witch who valued herself enough wouldn't put up with such antics. She had been very tempted to send him a Howler instead but decided that doing so would give deeper meaning to their interaction at Blaise's wedding and decided that a stinging hex to his privates would teach him a better lesson.

Once Monday rolled around, Hermione decided to ask Harry out for lunch since her one of her two companions (at least for the last three months) was honeymooning with his bride. Instead of meeting at their usual spot, Harry had asked her if she could pick them up food since he was working on a case and didn't want to leave his office because he was "afraid [he'd] have to be dragged, quite literally, back to his chair." Hermione complied and made her way to his office, their lunch inside a bag.

"Knock, knock."

Harry's head snapped up and gave Hermione a dreary smile before motioning for her to enter.

"Thanks, Hermione. You're a lifesaver," he told her gratefully, unwrapping his sandwich. "How was your weekend?"

Hermione reached out for her salad and paused for a moment before pasting a smile on her face.

"Blaise invited me to his wedding and I attended," she answered, shrugging.

"_Blaise_ _Zabini_? You attended his wedding? Since when are the two of you friends?" he asked, chuckling as though Hermione had told a particularly good joke.

"Well, we often paired up in class. You know, after the war. Plus we work in the same department so it's easy to run into each other," Hermione replied nonchalantly, spearing some spinach with her fork.

"Er, well… I didn't know that. How was it?" he asked her curiously.

"Extravagant, of course. It took place at his villa, in Italy. Each invitation contained a Portkey and we were given a different Portkey in order to return home."

Harry whistled, impressed.

"See anyone we know?"

Hermione's heart jumped into her throat and she took a drink of butterbeer to ease the feeling.

"Blaise, naturally. Anthony Goldstein was there… as was Draco Malfoy," she finished quietly.

"Hermione…" Harry began tentatively, setting his sandwich down. "What happened between the two of you? I never quite understood... one day you were happy as a clam, muttering about birthdays and then you were... er, _not_."

Hermione looked down at her lap, not wanting him to see her eyes water.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so, _so_ sorry," she sobbed, clutching on to her fork tightly.

He looked at her, alarmed, and made to stand up but ended up stumbling back into his chair.

"Hermione, why are you sorry?"

"Because I couldn't keep what happened between us to myself. I had to tell him, you see, because I… because I… I loved him. I know we had an unspoken agreement about never telling anybody but I just _had_ to," she told him in a trembling voice. "I couldn't keep something of that magnitude from him."

Harry watched her, aghast.

"Hermione… I never held you to anything. I can't blame you for telling him. I'm going to guess that he didn't take things so well?"

"Not taking things well would be an understatement, Harry. He stormed out but not before calling me a flurry of names," she whispered but then looked up at him with a particular question in her eyes.

"I told Ginny," Harry told her quietly, nodding.

Hermione's face grew pale as tears streamed down her face.

"There was no way I couldn't, especially if I wanted our relationship to stand a chance. You better believe I fought with myself but I chose to be honest with her because if I couldn't be honest with her, then what chance did we stand? So I s'pose I told her for the same reason you told Malfoy."

Hermione raised a quivering hand to her mouth to keep herself from bawling.

_Except that she forgave him. But all this time… not once has she mentioned anything to me._

"Does she… does she hate me, Harry?" she whispered, wiping tears with the back of her hand.

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" he asked, giving her a wry smile.

"I couldn't! Oh, Merlin… what must she think of me?" Hermione groaned, pressing her forehead against the palm of her hand.

"Hermione, please talk to her. I know it'll do you good. Perhaps you and I should have spoken about it instead of sweeping it under the rug…"

"What was there to say other than it was the worst decision ever?" she chuckled grimly.

"Ouch," Harry said, pressing his hand over his heart theatrically.

The corner of Hermione's lips curled slightly and she heaved a sigh.

"You can't tell me it was a good decision?" Hermione asked, arching her eyebrow.

"It wasn't good or bad… it just _was_. It's in the past, Hermione. What good is it regretting something we can't change?" Harry shrugged.

"Perhaps my mistake lay in telling Dra—Malfoy, then."

"Hermione, did you honestly think the man would react favorably in being told you had sex with his childhood enemy? I commend you for wanting to be honest, I really do, but there's a time and place for everything."

At his words, Hermione's face grew red.

"I told him on his birthday… in a restaurant," she mumbled.

Harry flinched and shook his head.

"And they call you the brightest witch of her age," he teased her gently.

"What was I supposed to do, then? Not tell him, ever?" she demanded, glaring at Harry.

"I don't know about that, but telling him in private would have been a start," Harry answered matter-of-factly. "I mean, it's obvious that your relationship was so important to you that you didn't want to keep secrets from him. But you might as well have stripped him naked and pushed him into a street full of Muggles."

Hermione grimaced, understanding the point Harry was trying to make.

"So maybe I did tell him at the worst time ever…" she conceded, biting her lower lip.

"Perhaps you should have prefaced the confession with an 'I love you,'" he suggested kindly.

Her face grew bright red and sighed softly.

"I thought that following with an 'I love you' would lessen the sting…" Hermione trailed off, feeling herself grow misty-eyed again.

Harry could only look at his best friend in sympathy.

"But seeing him again… it was like a burst of light. The butterflies in my stomach seemed to be indifferent to his cruel words, focusing on how good it felt to see his face again instead. He was an arse at first but then… he asked me to give him another chance."

Harry blew out a breath of air and slumped back into his seat, fiddling with a napkin.

"Hermione, if you truly love him then maybe you should meet up and talk to him. To, you know, clear the air. I can only imagine the barrage of insults he threw your way," Harry said, pressing his lips together in distaste, "and I can understand if you can't forgive him. But you need to do this for yourself because then you'll wonder 'what if?' for the rest of your life."

Despite the tears in Hermione's eyes, she gave Harry a shaky smile.

"When you'd get so wise, Harry Potter?"

"Hanging out with you was bound to rub off on me," he grinned.

Hermione let out something between a sob and chuckle before shaking her head out of fondness.

"Thank you. You've certainly given me something to think about," she told him sincerely.

"Hopefully you'll also think about talking to Gin," Harry piped up, leaning forward to continue eating his sandwich.

"I can't promise you anything."

"It's enough that I know that the idea is bouncing around in your head," Harry shrugged, giving Hermione a smile.

Hermione snorted softly and then looked at her watch.

"Damn, where has the time gone? I better go back… good luck," she told him, eyeing the large stack of paperwork on Harry's desk.

"Thanks," he answered grimly, polishing off the last of his sandwich.

"See you, Harry."

"See you, Hermione."

-x-

That weekend, Hermione was taking her weekly stroll along Diagon Alley. She was making her way to Flourish and Blott's when she spotted the telltale Weasley red hair and felt her heart stop for a second. When the owner of said hair swung their thick braid over their shoulder, Hermione froze to the spot.

Feeling the least Gryffindor she'd ever felt, she was about to turn back around when Ginny's bright brown eyes spotted her. She waved to Hermione energetically and practically ran to her while she tried to get her brain to function once more.

"Hermione! It's so good to see you! It's been ages, hasn't it?" Ginny burst out, beaming at her.

Hermione felt as though her tongue had been glued to the roof of her mouth. Thankfully for her, Ginny continued to chatter happily, none the wiser to Hermione's inner struggle.

"—and Harry said we could—"

"Ginny, stop," Hermione spoke up quietly.

The redhead's eyes widened a fraction as she took in the pallor on Hermione's face.

"I need to talk to you," Hermione said, licking her lips nervously.

Ginny seemed to come to a realization because a soft smile touched her lips and she nodded at Hermione.

"My place or yours?"

"Yours," Hermione responded, nodding sharply.

"Very well. Meet you there?"

Nodding once again, Hermione concentrated on her three D's and soon found herself feeling as though she were trying to squeeze through a tube before stumbling into an open doorway. She could hear Ginny inside and took a deep breath before stepping into the Potter's home.

_I can do this. I'm a Gryffindor, for crying out loud. If I could get through telling Draco, surely I can get through this chat with Ginny._

"Hermione, that you?"

"Yes!"

"Come in and make yourself at home. I'm making a cuppa!"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably on her feet before taking a seat.

_Might as well be comfortable._

The redhead came bustling in soon after, holding a tray with a teapot and two cups along with biscuits. Hermione watched her, noting that Ginny radiated happiness. She felt a pang of remorse followed by a sting of jealousy and bit her lip, chastising herself inwardly.

"So… how have you been, Hermione? How's work?"

"I've been busy with work, truth be told," she admitted, reaching out to pour herself a cup of tea.

"Aren't you always?" Ginny teased, nibbling on a biscuit.

Hermione could only smile self-deprecatingly.

"What about you?"

"Taking a small break from Quidditch so it's weird to have all this time to myself. To be honest with you, Harry and I have been trying for a child," she admitted, an elfin smile on her freckled face.

"Oh, Ginny! That's so marvelous," Hermione beamed at her.

"Thank you. It hasn't happened yet, but we're quite hopeful," she smirked.

Hermione made a face before laughing softly and abruptly remembered the reason she was sitting before Ginny and sobered up. Her friend, in turn, seemed to notice because she gave Hermione a meaningful look.

"I know why you're here."

"You do?" Hermione blurted out, holding the teacup tightly between her hands.

"Harry might have mentioned that you had half a mind to seek me," Ginny admitted sheepishly.

Hermione pursed her lips.

"Harry's a worse gossip than a woman," she muttered under her breath.

"Hermione… I don't hate you," Ginny stated bluntly.

Hermione straightened and stared at the redhead with wide eyes.

"Y-you don't? But I never—"

"You didn't owe me anything," Ginny shrugged. "We were friendly, but we were never close back in school, not really."

"How can you say I didn't owe you the truth? We might have not been the best of friends, but we still shared things. We shared your room when I stayed at The Burrow and I kept your secrets concerning Harry. How could you not resent me?" Hermione demanded.

"I never said I didn't resent you," Ginny grinned humorlessly. "I was _very_ tempted to hit you with my famous Bat-Bogey Hex but I decided to be the better witch. Besides, hurting you would have hurt Harry and that was the last thing I wanted."

"So you've known all along… yet you never told Ron."

Ginny grimaced and shrugged her shoulders.

"It wasn't my secret to tell. I could certainly understand why you'd kept it from him, though. Ron would have been apoplectic."

"And you weren't?" Hermione questioned, furrowing her forehead.

"I was, at first. But then I realized… Harry loved _me._ Sure, you might have been by his side in all of his adventures but it was _me_ to who he came to at the end of the day. He loved you, yes, but it's a different kind of love. I hadn't wanted to admit it to myself, but there was always a tiny part of me that was jealous of you. It was irrational, of course… but since when has being in love caused us to behave rationally?" she smiled, shrugging yet again.

Hermione sucked in a breath at the sageness of Ginny's statement.

"Besides, it wasn't like I was a saint during the time you three were gone."

Hermione arched an eyebrow at that but couldn't bring herself to be more curious about the matter; it really wasn't her business.

_There's more important things to discuss than Ginny's love life._

"Not to mention that Harry and I had already made love."

Hermione choked on her tea and thumped her chest. Daintily wiping her mouth with a napkin, she turned to Ginny, who looked both amused and concerned.

"You had?!"

"Yes. As a matter of fact, both of our first times were with each other," she smiled serenely.

Hermione couldn't help the envy that prickled in her chest.

"I'm glad you two had that chance to be together, Gin," Hermione told her softly.

"I'm sorry you didn't," Ginny told her, not unkindly.

Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair and looked down at her half-full teacup.

"I eventually did it with Ronald… it wasn't anything spectacular," she muttered, immediately feeling ashamed for saying such a thing.

Ginny only snorted.

"I don't _ever_ want to entertain the thought of Ron in _that_ way," she shuddered.

"Ginny, I'm sorry. For being a coward and a terrible friend. You always stood by our side, even if it was only because of Harry. As the years have passed, I've grown to see you like a sister which only makes me feel worse. Deservedly so, I think."

"Hermione… you didn't say anything because you weren't ready to face that part of yourself. I find it quite telling that you never told my brother yet told Malfoy."

"I imagine Ron's reaction would have been something like Draco's," Hermione muttered somberly.

Ginny eyed Hermione interestedly upon hearing her call him by his given name but remained quiet.

"Only worse because he would have felt betrayed by Harry as well," the redhead pointed out. "I don't think he would have ever forgiven the two of you."

Hermione sank down in her seat, feeling pathetic.

"But you did."

"I did," Ginny nodded.

"Why?"

"Because I was never as unforgiving as Ron," she answered cheekily. "But really... it was what Harry needed. It was something we _both_ needed in order to move on."

Hermione felt her eyes well up with tears, recalling Draco's harsh rejection.

"Hermione, as much as I hate not thinking ill of the ferret… maybe you told him at the wrong time and place? Mind you, I'm _not_ making excuses for him. The names he told you were terrible, or so I was told, but perhaps you caught him off-guard in a vulnerable moment?" Ginny suggested sensibly.

"Harry told me that too," Hermione chuckled. "About telling him at the wrong place and time, I mean."

"It's a possibility."

"Or maybe I overestimated his feelings for me," Hermione muttered, dejection laced in her voice.

"Did the two of you ever…?"

"Tell each other what we felt? Aside from admitting we liked each other, no," she shook her head remorsefully.

"Do you love him? Even after everything that's happened between the two of you?"

Hermione brushed her fingertip along the rim of the teacup and bit her lip, looking up at Ginny from underneath her eyelashes.

"Would it make me weak woman if I told you yes?"

"Not weak," Ginny shook her head vehemently. "Just… _human_."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

"Part of me wants to be outraged, knowing that I deserve to be treated better than that. But the other part of me… it _aches_ for him, Gin," she groaned, closing her eyes.

She visualized his handsome pale face, the high points of his cheekbones and the softness of his lips. The way his soft blond fringe would fall into his eyes and the way he'd arch his eyebrow. The depth of his eyes and the way his mouth would soften whenever he looked at her. His tender touch and how he was _so_ hesitant to take her to his bed…

Ginny observed her friend with a small smile on her lips.

"I saw you waste years of your life pining after Ron, Hermione. I don't want you to spend any more time from the man you clearly love. Ron might have been your first love, but Malfoy… he's your _true love_. I can see it in your face and hear it in the tone of your voice. He's your Harry."

"He may be my Harry, Ginny, but what's going to keep him from lashing out at me again? What if he's not so different from the Malfoy we knew at Hogwarts?" Hermione questioned fervently.

"In the time you've known him ever since running into him at Flourish and Blott's, has he displayed any Malfoy-ish behavior? Excluding the events of his birthday, of course."

Hermione thought back to all the moments she'd spent time with him, trying to recall if he'd been unpleasant or demeaning but came up short.

"No. He might have behaved haughtily or vainly, but it was mostly in jest. Not once was he discourteous," Hermione sighed heavily. "Well, aside from that time when the waiter couldn't stop himself from flirting with me."

Ginny chuckled at the thought.

"Merlin save us from a jealous ferret," she mumbled, taking a sip of tea.

"He'd been the very epitome of good manners every moment we spent together, whether we were at work or on a date."

"You certainly walked on cloud nine. It reminded me of when Harry and I got together. I don't think I'd ever seen you so happy, not even with Ron," Ginny admitted quietly.

Hermione gave her friend a sad sort of smile and shook her head.

"The time we spent together has lingered like a happy dream. I can't help but feel nostalgic all the time and it makes me so mad at myself because I've never been this type of person," Hermione exclaimed, slapping her hand against her knee. "It makes me want to resent him, for turning me into this weeping, daydreaming girl when I always considered myself to be a smart, sensible woman with my feet solidly on the ground."

"Love does that to you," Ginny admitted grudgingly. "I never thought myself to be the envious type until I met you and the stream of girls that tried to catch Harry's eye."

Hermione nodded sympathetically to her friend's words, recalling the stabbing envy she felt when Lavender showered Ron with attention in their sixth year or even when Draco was engaged to Astoria.

_Merlin, that feels like ages ago. We'd come so far…_

"But love also makes you stronger," Hermione began. "At the risk of sounding cliché, it makes you want to become a better person. Not only for the purpose of being a better partner, but because it will turn _you_ into a happier individual which would in turn cause the relationship to flourish. I don't think I realized just how… stifled I felt by Ron's side, at the end. Especially when Dra—_Malfoy _began to work with me and even more so when Ron proposed. I loved him, yes, but I couldn't recognize the person I'd turned into. I'd become a wreck, so stressed… and all because I couldn't say no. But I digress…"

"Shouldn't you be telling this to another person, Hermione?" Ginny questioned pointedly. "A certain albino ferret comes to mind."

"I'm scared, Ginny," Hermione confessed. "I'm _so_ scared of putting my heart on the line and getting it trod on again."

"Again, not trying to side with the ferret," Ginny started, making a face, "but don't you think he's scared too? Scared of being told he's not good enough?"

"That's just ridiculous—"

"But is it, really? He'd been Harry's rival for the majority of his life and to find out the woman he'd been seeing slept with him… it must have been a blow. Not because your first time was with him, but because it was _Harry Potter_, one of the few people he constantly went out of his way to undermine and taunt. The boy who denied him friendship and chose a boy from a family his own was constantly feuding with? A boy from a family that he'd been told was lesser than his own?"

Hermione nibbled on her lip, feeling red-hot shame course through her.

"I suppose I hadn't considered all of that," she admitted slowly. "Not only was I a terrible friend, but I was a wretched girlfriend too."

"Maybe a little naive but not wretched, Hermione. It would have been wretched had you told Malfoy with the purpose to hurt him, but you didn't do that. You were a little short-sighted, perhaps. I can't blame you for telling him, I think you did the right thing. The problem is, I believe, that you trusted him too much and he thought too little of you. You're thinking, 'what if he lashes out at me again?' but maybe he's also thinking 'what's stopping her from lying to _me_?' and it's something that both of you have to talk through."

"Especially if he wants me to give us another chance."

"Oh, definitely," Ginny nodded. "But it's not only about _you_ forgiving him, although it's certainly important. It's about the two of you forgiving yourselves and each other."

Hermione watched the redhead, admiring just how mature she looked and sounded.

_I suppose marriage does that to you. How does it feel, I wonder, to be __**so**__ sure of someone's love? To put yourself in their hands and trust them not to hurt you? Not deliberately, at least. I put myself in Draco's hands and look at me now… although it's not just me who got burned._

"I'm so happy for you, Ginny. Not only because you and Harry are so happy but that you have been able to create this life for you and Harry. I don't spend nearly enough time as I should with you, but what I've seen makes me content to know that he's being cared for and loved. He'd been _so_ neglected as a child… but my heart is happy that it's been more than made up for by now."

Ginny beamed at Hermione.

"Thank you, Hermione. You know, Harry also wants you to be happy. He worries about you, Hermione… that you will waste away. We both do."

Hermione gave an affectionate little sigh.

"Oh, Harry… he's always looking out for others. He's one of the most genuinely kind people I've ever met," she sniffled, touched by her friend's concern.

"You're like his sister, he can't help but worry," Ginny shrugged a shoulder, her eyes full of sympathy.

Hermione remained quiet, looking at the dregs of her tea.

"You were sorted into Gryffindor for a reason, Hermione. You're so much more than you are currently giving yourself credit for. Stop selling yourself so short and find that courage within yourself. Quit punishing yourself for something that happened year ago. Then you'll have another chance at happiness. But only if you let yourself."

Hermione nodded solemnly and the chatter soon changed to less dire topics. Upon looking at the time, she realized she spent the majority of the afternoon catching up with her redheaded friend.

"Harry was right…" Hermione mused, rising to her feet.

"How so?" the redhead questioned, vanishing the dirty dishes with a flick of her wand.

"He told me talking to you would do me good."

"Let's just keep that between us."

"How come?"

"Because it'll probably go to his head and we don't need it getting any bigger," Ginny smirked.

Hermione chuckled and after promising to visit Ginny soon, left. She arrived at her flat and noted how much more light of heart she felt.

_Now, to find that courage within myself and seek Draco._

* * *

Thanks for taking the time to read! See you next week. :)


	41. Chapter 41

A/N: This is it, guys! This chapter is very dialogue heavy, so... you've been warned.

Disclaimer: Still not mine, most unfortunately.

* * *

Several weeks after not hearing from Hermione, Draco was beginning to lose heart that he wouldn't hear from her after all. That changed, however, when Draco received a simple owl one Friday afternoon. With his heart in his throat, he read:

_Can we talk?_

_-HG_

Overjoyed, he sent a reply straight away and felt the palms of his hands become clammy. Her response to his one word question (_'Where?'_) was:

_Your place?_

_-HG_

Draco sent back:

_Absolutely __not._

She replied (sounding rather affronted, he thought):

_Why ever not?_

_-HG_

Draco hesitated, the tip of the quill hovering over the parchment as he thought to himself how to reply without coming across as off-putting.

_You don't have the best memories of being here and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable._

_-DM_

He thought she wasn't going to owl him back since her other replies has been swift but half an hour later he finally got his answer:

_Don't you have, like, a hundred gardens in that Manor of yours? We could sit and chat in one of them. Besides, the weather has been getting cooler and I'd like to take advantage of what little warmth we have left._

_-HG_

Draco smiled affectionately at her reply, tracing his fingers over her tidy script. By Merlin, how he missed her!

_That sounds perfect. How does Saturday sound? Say, noon? The Floo room is close by… I'll open it so you can travel that way._

_-DM_

_I appreciate it. See you then._

_-HG_

Draco clutched her reply, feeling hope stir in his chest.

_But I shan't get ahead of myself. Definitely won't count my eggs before they hatch. But wanting to talk is definitely a start._

Come Saturday morning, Draco felt like a nervous wreck. He was even more fastidious about choosing an outfit than usual. Thanks to the extra lavender he'd added to his Sleeping Draught, he'd slept like a baby; so he wasn't worried about not looking his best.

In the end, Draco chose an outfit that would make him look both good and relaxed. He wore a dark blue long sleeved Henley shirt, though he pushed the sleeves up slightly and a pair of dark Muggle jeans; he found them too form-fitting but thought (hoped, more like) that Hermione might appreciate them. For his feet, he decided on a pair of Muggle trainers instead of a more formal shoe.

At five til noon, Draco found himself pacing along the hallway, wringing his hands nervously. Once he heard the roar of the Floo, his feet became glued to the ground while his heart took off in a sprint.

_This is it._

He heard Hermione's light footsteps and thought to himself that she was probably extremely nervous as well.

"Hello? Malfoy?"

His heart fluttered at the sound of his voice and tried not to dwell on the fact that she called him by his surname.

"Yes, hello Granger. Good afternoon," he called out to her, putting his hands behind his back.

"Good afternoon," she said, appearing in the doorway.

His first instinct was to sweep her into his arms but forced himself to keep still.

"Thanks again for opening your Floo to me. Much faster than Apparating, I think."

Draco's words died in his mouth as he took all of her in. She wore a plaid flannel shirt that was tucked into a pair of Muggle jeans (that flattered the hell out of her) while her feet were clad in shoelace-less Muggle trainers. Her hair was pulled back into a plait and her skin looked fresh, nary sign of makeup. He thought she looked beautiful, but Draco had grown to recognize the look of apprehension on her face.

_Focus, idiot. She spoke to you and is undoubtedly waiting for some a response._

"You're very welcome, Granger," he replied smoothly, as if he hadn't been gaping at her.

Despite his reply, Draco continued to feel anxious inside. His heart was still galloping away and all he could do was bask in her presence.

"So, shall we?" he asked, extending his arm out toward the direction of the rose garden he wanted to take her to.

"Oh, yes, of course," Hermione responded, her face turning a fetching shade of pink.

"This way," he murmured, motioning for her to follow him.

She was at his heels and the scent of her perfume wafted toward his nose; he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

_Merlin, she still smells divine._

He snapped his eyes open and stopped just before a doorway and swept his arm in a gentlemanly manner. She merely arched an eyebrow and stepped inside.

"So it isn't much of a garden, really. More of a greenhouse. But Mother did love spending time here," Draco shrugged.

"I can see why. It looks so lovely… and it smells even better," she replied, awestruck. "It's like something out of a dream."

The greenhouse was built out of transparent glass, roses planted along the perimeter. Some had even climbed the wall, like ivy, which seemed to enthrall her the most.

"The glass is pretty much spell-proof," Draco explained. "Mother has always loved roses, they've been her favorite flower ever since I could remember. She's cultivated all sorts of breeds and even created one of a kind by er, mixing different species. Since she doesn't live here anymore, she charms them to remain watered although she's stopped by occasionally to do it manually. The climate inside is also charmed so that it's always the perfect temperature for the roses."

"That's fascinating. I always got top scores in Herbology but I don't think we ever studied anything regular like roses," Hermione said, brushing her finger along the petals of a peach-hued rose. "I can see the love and effort she's put into this place. Do you ever tend to it?"

Draco shuffled his feet and felt his face redden slightly.

"Not as much as Mother would like me to. I don't neglect the roses, far from it," he hastened to answer after seeing the way she scrunched her nose. "I re-set charms and make sure they're blooming perfectly. But I spend much more time in my greenhouse."

"You have your own greenhouse?" Hermione stared, brown eyes wide and bright.

He couldn't help but feel amused by the sheer excitement on her face and was about to reply when she shook herself.

"Of course you do," she muttered wryly. "What do you grow?"

"I grow an assortment of ingredients that I need for my potions."

"Potions? So, you have your own business after all."

She blushed deeply, as though her remembering his words had been a faux pas. He only smiled at her, motioning for her to sit at the table and chairs in the corner of the greenhouse; the corner, incidentally, that gave them a splendid view of the whole room.

"Yes and no. I don't have my own business although I do brew and sell potions to stores. I also sell them my own brews."

"Wow, Draco… that's amazing," she smiled, looking genuinely happy for him.

He grinned inwardly at her use of his given name.

"Thanks. I have been thinking about opening my own shop, though. It won't be easy, though."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Who's going to want to work for a former Death Eater?" he questioned quietly, looking down at his lap. "As much as I would love to do the whole thing on my own, I couldn't. I don't exactly struggle brewing everything on my own but…"

"Nothing is ever _easy_, Draco. So you might have a bit of a struggle finding people you can trust to work for you, but it's not impossible," Hermione spoke ardently. "Besides, you're a _former_ Death Eater and have been nothing but an upstanding and hardworking man ever since. If anybody judges you because of your past, then _they_ are twice the fools."

Draco's heart fluttered like a Snitch at her vehemence, touched by the way she defended him. He stared at her, wanting to reach over and press his hand over her clenched fist but held back. She finally took notice of his intense gaze and squirmed in her seat, looking away from him.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked, wanting to make her comfortable.

_Nothing could comfort her as well as a nice cup of tea. Well, aside from me, of course._

"Yes, please."

"I'll be right back," he said, rising to his feet.

"Where are you going?" she questioned, turning to look at him with a puzzled expression on her face.

"To the kitchen… for the tea," he replied slowly.

Her lips parted slightly and she stared at him. For a moment he wondered whether she was trying to perform Legilimency but continued to look back at her patiently. She shook her head slightly, a slight flush appearing on her cheeks.

"But… don't you have elves?" she frowned.

"I do, yes. Three."

She blinked and opened her mouth to speak before snapping it shut.

"At the risk of sounding obvious… why not ask one to fetch it for you instead?"

"I'm perfectly capable of getting my own tea, thank you. Well, except when I'm brewing. But other than that…"

Hermione watched him incredulously, her hands flat on the table.

"Why?" she whispered, puckering her lips slightly.

"My dearest Hermione… having a girlfriend who fought for elf rights was bound to rub off on me some," he grinned, sitting back down slowly.

Her lips quivered and Draco wondered if he'd said something that had offended her.

"Please order us some tea," she spoke softly, leaning back into the chair.

"Trinket!" Draco called out, eyeing Hermione worriedly.

"Master Draco called Trinket?"

"Please bring us a pot of tea along with some scones and cakes."

"Yes, Master Draco!"

"Are you feeling alright?" he queried, leaning forward.

"I'm fine," she mumbled.

With a crack, Trinket appeared and set their tea and sweets on the table.

"Is there anything else Trinket can do for Master Draco and Missus?"

"No, that will be all. Thank you, Trinket."

Hermione remained quiet and Draco prepared her a cup of tea, just the way she liked it. He pushed the cup towards her and she eyed it suspiciously.

"I know my shady past would beg to differ, but it's not poisoned," he told her dryly.

She blushed and picked up the cup before taking a sip.

"So, you wanted to talk."

Hermione choked on her tea and coughed before finally setting down her cup.

"Yes, I want to talk. Thing is, I'm not quite sure where to start. It was easy enough with Ginny—"

"You spoke with Potter's wife?" Draco interrupted, unable to believe his ears.

"Yes, I had to. Even if I was years too late."

Draco felt a burst of pride at her courage, despite how reticent she seemed before.

"Did you speak with Weasley?" he asked, feeling curious despite his dislike of the redhead.

"No. It was a general consensus that Ron would have taken it worse than you."

Draco cringed at the frankness in her tone and opened his mouth to speak but Hermione raised her hand.

"I'd like to start with an apology. I—"

"Are you bloody kidding me, Granger?" Draco burst, scowling at her.

"Er… no?"

"I'm the one who tells you a number of despicable things yet _you_ apologize to me? I don't think so," he huffed, crossing his arms tightly.

"You did, yes. But it was also my part for telling you in such a public place. For all we know, you could have reacted differently had we spoken at my flat," Hermione shrugged.

"Granger, _no_. I realize the words are out there, but do not seek my forgiveness because there's nothing for you to seek. Perhaps I could have reacted differently if it had been the two of us, or maybe I could have behaved worse. There was a reason you chose a public setting."

"It wasn't because I was scared of your reaction, Malfoy," she defended herself hotly. "I know you would have never put a hand on me, no matter how livid you were. I think part of me believed your reaction wouldn't have been as explosive if it'd just been the two of us."

"How wrong you were," Draco spoke bitterly.

"Yes, I was. But I also caught you off-guard. You were probably expect—"

"Granger, will you quit making excuses for my deplorable behavior?" he growled.

"Malfoy, listen to me… I'm not making excuses for anything. After having mulled things over and over again in my head and having talked about it with Ginny, things finally became clear to me. We were both in the wrong."

"Granger, _you_ did nothing wrong. You trusted me and I practically threw it back in your face! Why are you being so cavalier about what happened? Just _what_ did you and Potter's wife discuss?"

"She made some excellent points about the way you reacted. It made me feel terrible for not realizing earlier."

"What points?" Draco asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, for one, you and Harry had a bitter rivalry going on. I could hardly expect you to jump for joy at the news, could I?"

He stared at her, unable to believe she was really rationalizing his awful behavior.

"You'd extended your hand to Harry in an offer of friendship but he turned you down. To make things worse, he became friends with someone you were taught was lesser than you. You hounded us ever since I could remember and most of your hatred was directed at Harry. You typically didn't bother me if I kept quiet, so your wrath was usually aimed at Harry. You were jealous of him, having taken the place in the spotlight that your father had undoubtedly told you would belong to you. You were resentful of Harry for taking a number of things away from you and I think part of you couldn't take the fact that I, despite the fact that I was with you at the time, was _physically _Harry's even if it was only once. Pair it with whatever inferiority complex you have of feeling like a lesser wizard compared to Harry and well…"

Draco felt as though his jaw could have hit the floor. But seeing the slight smug expression on her face shook him out of his shock.

"Think you've got me figured out, huh? Yes, you make some very valid points that even I hadn't wanted to dwell on as a child, or even now as an adult but that doesn't excuse my vitriolic outburst, Granger. For a while…" he hesitated, peering up at her.

"'For a while…'?" she pressed.

"I questioned my love for you. Because if I was capable of spewing such horrendous things, did I _truly_ love you? But you're right, you know. You usually are," he smiled meekly. "I suppose I was expecting a different sort of confession that evening."

"What did you think I was going to tell you?" she whispered, watching him raptly.

"That you loved me," he replied wistfully, giving his head a shake. "And until Blaise pointed out that it might have been followed your confession, the thought hadn't genuinely occurred to me again. I was looking forward to hearing it from you that night so I could reciprocate the sentiment. Ever the coward."

Hermione's eyes grew shiny and he looked down at his nearly empty teacup.

"For how long…?"

"As much as I'd love to be a romantic and say that it was love at second sight, ever since running into you at Flourish and Blott's, but it would be a lie. I couldn't really pinpoint a particular day. I could compare it to falling asleep because it just… happened. But it was definitely early in our working relationship. I looked forward to going to work like I remember anticipating attending Hogwarts. But how I loathed seeing that oaf monopolize your time. I knew he didn't deserve you and that I even less, but… even when I never considered much of a daydreamer you still managed to dominate my thoughts."

Draco heard Hermione sniffle and summoned a rose, which he transfigured into a handkerchief. She stared at him with her beautiful, bright eyes and mumbled a 'thank you.' She dabbed at her tears and under her nose daintily before inhaling deeply.

"Its scented like roses," she muttered, looking at him with an awestruck expression.

"It _was_ a rose," he shrugged.

"It hadn't occurred to me that you might've been in love with me for that long," Hermione whispered.

"I was powerless to fight it. It felt good, even if it wasn't reciprocated. What about… what about you?"

"Since when have I loved you?"

Draco nodded, pouring himself a new cup of tea.

"The week leading up to your birthday," Hermione answered confidently. "I remember thinking to myself just how _giddy_ you made me feel before comparing myself to a love struck teenager… and that's when the shoe dropped. It was even worse because you'd been so busy and I got to see so little of you during the week."

"So your love for me was brand new… until I ruined it with my callous behavior."

"It was callous, deplorable and vitriolic… you hurt me deeply, Draco. You said nasty things because of something that happened in the past. Although I now understand why, it doesn't excuse your behavior. I want to be with you and I'm scared. A part of you must be scared too. But being with you right now, it's like a balm for my soul," she confessed, tears trickling down her face. "It doesn't surprise me how easy it is to converse with you again."

Draco wanted nothing more than to scoop her up into his arms and hold her. Instead, he watched her, his heart pulsating erratically in his chest.

"I know you didn't mean to withhold anything from me, Hermione," he told her softly. "I think you waited until you were sure of your feelings for me. You trusted me enough and I disappointed you. I could only think of myself and my hurt ego in that moment and lashed out in the worst way possible, singlehandedly destroying my relationship with you and losing your trust. I'm not going to lie and say that as soon as I arrived at my flat I realized the gravity of my behavior and wanted to go back to make things right. Oh, no… I was desolate. I basically drank myself into a stupor that night and remained drunk for about a week. But then when the fog cleared, I realized what a massive sod I was and broke everything breakable in my flat."

"Doesn't sound like you had it any better than me," Hermione whispered, clutching the handkerchief tightly.

"I deserved it. I deserve that and so much more. To make things worse, I behaved like a scorned ex-lover instead of being civilized with you at Blaise's rehearsal dinner. I continued to throw insults at you and even followed you and Goldstein that first night."

"What caused the change? You were different the next day."

"It all started with Blaise suggesting that you might have loved me. I still did then and… even if I didn't deserve it, I wanted to get close to you. Tell you _how_ sorry I was and to ask for another chance, beg if it came down to it," Draco told her earnestly. "You're here now and… it's like a balm for me too, Hermione."

Draco sucked in a deep breath and focused his gaze on Hermione.

"There aren't enough languages for me to convey just how sorry I am for hurting you. You don't deserve a single word I accused you of being. You're the farthest thing from a slag and it was _so_ wrong of me to imply that something could happen between you and Potter now. I was blinded by my petty jealousy and feelings of inadequacy and lashed out at the one person I should have supported. Instead, I behaved like an undeserving cad. I could live out the rest of my life not deserving your forgiveness. As exulted I am about having you before me, I'm not even sure how you can stand to see me," he chuckled humorlessly. "But despite all that, I want you. More than I've ever wanted anything or anyone in my life."

She inhaled a sharp breath through her nose, tears collecting in her lower eyelashes.

_Merlin, even crying she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen._

"I know you're scared that I might turn on you again should we give things another try. I can't promise you I won't," he told her regretfully, "but you can bet that I'll try my best not to hurt you on purpose. It's shite, I know, but it's the best I can do. I'm not quite sure if it's good enough, though because you deserve better."

Hermione's lower lip trembled and she eyed him sorrowfully.

_Of course it's not good enough for her and she shouldn't accept such shoddy promise._

"All my life, the only love I'd ever had was of my parents…" she began, swallowing thickly. "But once I got to Hogwarts, Harry and Ron grew to love me. Naturally, I had the affection of Ron's family too, which deepened once we began dating. His love, too, shifted from platonic to love _love._ He was my first love and for a while, things were perfect, just how I had always fancied. But there were little things and issues that would snowball and eventually escalate until we shouted ourselves hoarse. Simply put, we were incompatible. But then _you_ came along and changed my life. It's like I could only see in grayscale but everything became in technicolor when I was around you."

As touched as Draco felt by her words, he felt struck by inspiration and stored them in the back of his mind.

"You, too, changed my life. You gave me something nobody had bothered to do: give me a chance. You let me in, you trusted me and… I became enthralled. You captivated me. Even now… I'm still in love with you. I have a feeling that I always will be," Draco said, giving her a shaky smile. "I was given everything my heart desired which in turn turned me into a pampered, haughty, despicable person. My parents loved me, yes, but they weren't demonstrative about it outside of buying me things. I was neglected despite what many might think. You... _you_ were unfailingly kind to me and grew to become more demonstrative with me as time passed. I just… soaked it in. You taught me to feel, Hermione… you brought me back to life."

A sob pierced the air and he turned to Hermione, who was crying freely.

"Oh, love…" he sighed, feeling his eyes sting with tears.

Not wanting to think about it twice, he stood and rushed to her, kneeling before Hermione.

"Please don't cry," he muttered soothingly, pressing his hand against her knee as she sobbed into the handkerchief.

"T-that's t-t-terrible!" she hiccuped, wiping her tears away and peering down at him.

_You don't even know the first of it._

"Don't feel too bad for me, love," he told her wryly. "I was horribly prejudiced by the time I met you. I probably deserved every bit of loneliness I felt."

One last tear escaped and Draco wiped it with the pad of his thumb, watching Hermione tenderly. She leaned into his touch and he smiled at the action, watching as she closed her eyes.

"I was alone, too. In school, anyway. I put everybody off with my intellect, undoubtedly annoying the stuffing out of them," Hermione whispered.

Draco gently stroked the soft skin of her cheek, captivated.

"I thought you were brilliant."

"You hated it," she said, opening her eyes and watching him.

"I was jealous. Big difference," he told her cheekily.

A corner of her lips curled and Draco stroked it fondly.

"I still love you."

His heart jolted at her statement, every last of his nerve endings feeling abuzz.

"I love you too," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips for a second before meeting her eyes once again.

"But is it good enough for us to try to rekindle our relationship? We've hurt each other, Draco… can we really move past this?" Hermione questioned softly, tears pooling in her eyes.

"I'm not going to pressure you into making a decision right now, Hermione. You're unsure and I'm not going to take advantage of it. You can have all the time you want. Just… don't shut me out," he pleaded quietly.

"Shut you out?" she queried, furrowing her brow. "It was _you_ who left _me._"

"And it was the biggest mistake of my life. Well, it's up there," he joked grimly. "I spent three months wallowing, torturing myself… I couldn't do it again and I can only begin to imagine how it was for you."

_Please don't reject me._

"What do you propose we do?"

"We could… meet up," he suggested, stroking her cheek one last time before dropping his hand onto her knee.

"Meet up?" she repeated with disbelief.

"Yes, there are times when I need help with my potions… who better to ask than the witch who had the second best marks after me in class?"

Hermione's lips stretched into a smile and Draco felt as though he had finally done something right.

"You mean like… a collaborator of sorts?"

"That's it," he smiled back at her.

"I like the sound of it. Even though Professor Snape despised me, I always did love the class," she admitted, looking pensive. "I wonder… but no, it's much too preposterous to even entertain the thought…"

"What is it?" Draco asked, taking her hands in his.

"I'm unsure whether you know… he, Professor Snape, that is, used to be in love with Harry's mum. She was a brilliant Muggleborn witch, if Professor Slughorn's ravings are to be believed. Maybe… I reminded him of her? Not physically, but in our spirit? Our intellect, perhaps?"

"It's a sound theory, Hermione. Out of sheer curiosity, what did Potter's mother look like?"

"She had red hair, freckles and green eyes."

Draco shivered, making a noise of disgust.

"What is it? Did that nasty prejudice for people with red hair read its ugly head?" she teased lightly, her eyes searching his face.

"No, it's just that it sounds far too much like his _wife_ for my liking. Doesn't it unsettle you?"

"It's something best not thought of, I think," Hermione answered quickly.

Still Draco could see that her train of thought was along his lines, if slightly less crude.

"I must give her my thanks, though. Potter's wife, I mean. I think that it's thanks to her musings that you're here. Otherwise you might have never shown up."

"I would have shown up… eventually," Hermione shrugged.

"You're definitely braver than I am, so your statement is probably true," he chuckled, moving to rise to his feet.

"Wait!" she breathed out, pressing her hands against his shoulders and inadvertently sent him toppling to the floor.

Draco hissed when his body made contact with the ground and heard the sound of the chair legs scraping against the floor, muffling Hermione's apologies.

"Draco! Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees next to him.

"It's quite alright," he answered, screwing his eyes shut so they would stop watering.

Draco felt her fingertips fluttering across his face and he finally opened his eyes, equally surprised and pleased to find her face hovering just above his.

"Are you alright? Have you a concussion?"

Hermione's warm breath fanned across his face, soothing him.

"No, no… no concussion."

"Here…"

She gripped his bicep, and with surprising force, pulled him into a sitting position. Her other hand rested behind his neck, supporting his head.

"Better?"

"Yes, loads. Thanks," he answered gruffly.

"Draco… oh, Draco…" she whispered before launching herself at him.

He was short of breath as she wrapped her arms around his middle and hugged him tightly. His arms were held aloft before wrapping them around her, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. She could probably feel his heart thumping against his chest, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

_I'm holding her in my arms, that's all that matters._

"Hermione, I love you," he whispered into her hair.

They finally pulled away and he was delighted to find her face as rosy as some of the roses in the greenhouse.

"So… friends?"

"Friends?" she parroted, looking adorably confused.

"Well, yes…"

He was surprised to see the spark of disappointment in her eyes but he knew it was the right thing to do.

"Alright, friends," she nodded, breathing in deeply. "But maybe…"

"But?"

She didn't respond and leaned forwardinstead. Draco's heart slammed into his ribcage as he realized what Hermione was about to do. With lament in his heart, he only pressed his thumb against her puckered lips. Her eyes sprang open and she blinked rapidly, looking down at his thumb and then at his face. Redness exploded across her cheeks like fireworks and Draco couldn't help but become mesmerized by the sight. She began to scramble away, clearly embarrassed but he wasn't about to let her go so easily.

"No, wait. Hold on, Hermione!"

She only grumbled, trying to get him to loosen his grip on her arm.

"Stop fighting me, Granger," he grunted, pulling her back tightly against his chest and holding her there.

"Don't you understand that should your lips touch mine, I won't be able to let you go? I've spent far too much time without you, Hermione and I don't want to muck things up again. I'm going to do right by you, damn it. So please don't tempt me because you'll only find yourself shackled to my bed," he murmured into her ear.

Draco felt her shiver and smirked before loosening his hold on her. He could feel her heart pounding and it exhilarated him that he could still affect her. He decided to indulge himself for being able to withhold himself from kissing her and nuzzled her neck for a few precious seconds before gently extricating her from between his legs.

Hermione turned around, her face radiantly pink.

"Friends," he reminded her.

"Friends," she nodded sullenly.

But because he couldn't help himself, Draco brushed his fingertips against her cheek one last time before standing up. He held his hand out to her and was amused when she didn't take it, making a point to get up herself.

"Draco, I'm not sure if it's important to you but..."

"But?" he pressed.

"Harry and Ginny had previously, _you know_, been intimate," she muttered, blushing, "before what happened between us in the tent. So..."

Draco stared at her with wide eyes, feeling his stomach clench uneasily.

"Say no more, Hermione. Really, not a word. Just thinking about it..." he groaned, swallowing thickly with a look of deep disgust on his face.

"I thought you should know," she shrugged, nibbling on her lower lip.

"Thank you for telling me. Out of morbid curiosity... how was it?" Draco questioned, unsure of whether he was going to like the answer.

Hermione's face blazed and she squirmed, looking greatly uncomfortable.

"It was... terrible," she said with a grimace. "Ron wasn't much better, unfortunately."

Draco couldn't help smirking, feeling incredibly smug of his sexual prowess. He wiped the smile off his face before she could see and plastered what he hoped looked like an appropriate polite expression.

"One last thing…"

"Yes?"

"Please don't let what I confessed blind you with hatred towards Harry," she told him earnestly.

Draco winced but forced himself to nod.

"I've never particularly liked the bloke, but I was always able to be civil because of you. Just because of… _that_… doesn't mean it's going to change. I still don't like him, mind you," he pouted.

Hermione gave him a smile that made her eyes twinkle and Draco felt his knees turn to jelly.

_Gods… I'd do anything as long as she continued to look at me that way. __Even if we're just friends, I can't help but feel giddy at being given another chance to flirt and romance her. Properly this time, without any meddling weasels._

Just before she left the Manor, Draco grabbed hold of her hand and held it.

"Thank you, Hermione. For giving _me,_ _this _between us another chance. If I hadn't experienced your kindness firsthand, then this would have put me in my place."

She quirked a smile at him and shrugged.

"I don't think I could have continued living like that," she replied honestly.

"I don't doubt I would have, had Blaise not intervened," Draco bit his lip.

_Oh, shite... maybe I shouldn't have let that slip. Knowing her, she's going to ask about it._

"Well, thank goodness for having blunt people in our lives who care about us, right?"

"Right," he chuckled. "Well..."

"Well," she parroted, giving him a small smile.

He brought her hand up to his lips and brushed them across her knuckles.

"I'll owl you so we can get together and be Potions buddies," he winked, caressing his thumb across her knuckles.

Hermione swallowed thickly before snapping out of her daze and snatched her hand back. She mumbled under her breath all the way to his Floo and turned around just after grabbing a handful of the powder.

"Draco, this isn't going to be easy. But nothing worth it rarely is," she told him, giving him a last encouraging smile.

She disappeared within the green flames and Draco couldn't help but thank his lucky stars for having a woman such as she in his life.

_No, I definitely don't deserve her. But if she wants me... well, who am I to deny her what she wants?_

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Thanks for reading, everybody! I hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it. :)


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N: I'm so sorry, everybody. I've realized that it's been a little over a month since my last update and believe you me, it hadn't been my intention to publish this so late. That said, I hope you enjoy this chapter. More at the bottom.**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, it's still not mine.**

* * *

"So, have you any plans for your birthday?"

Hermione snapped out of her reverie and turned to look at Draco, who was stirring the bubbling liquid in a cauldron idly.

"Er…"

_Now that I think about it, nobody's owled me to make plans to celebrate. I understand they lead busy lives but how could they forget when in previous years they'd owl me a week in advance not to make any plans…_

She tried to shake off the lingering bitterness and shook her head.

"No, no plans," she answered wryly.

Draco glanced up at her and arched a pale eyebrow at her.

_I can almost hear the disparaging thoughts concerning my friends running through his head._

"In that case, would you like to have dinner?"

Hermione blinked and felt grateful for the vapor that had caused her skin to flush.

"Oh! Yes, I'd… I'd like that," she answered, meeting his silver gaze. "Like a… date?"

Draco tilted his head slightly, an amused smile curling the corners of his lips.

"Would you like it to be?"

She swallowed thickly before looking down at her own cauldron, whose liquid was beginning to bubble, and bit her lip.

_Do I want it to be a date? Absolutely. Draco's been nothing but charming and flirtatious although he's certainly kept his distance... literally. He hasn't initiated contact ever since our talk in the Manor. Could this dinner bring good change between us? _

Apparently Hermione had taken too long to answer because Draco cleared his throat.

"Or not…" he muttered, going back to his cauldron.

"No! No, I… sorry," Hermione murmured, looking at him from under her lashes. "Yes."

His face brightened and he gave her a lopsided smile, "Good to know."

Hermione gave him a timid smile and felt a tingle run up her spine at the way his eyes shone.

_It's not the first time I've seen him give me this look. It typically happens when he thinks I'm not looking. These intense looks, full of… adoration? Merlin, it makes me want to pounce on him and snog him silly._

"I know the perfect place… how does seven sound?" Draco questioned, bottling the potion he'd been working on.

"It's good. What's the name of this _perfect place_?" Hermione teased, aiming a little smirk his way.

He smirked back at her and, to her surprise, gave her the name of an expensive Italian _Muggle _restaurant.

"Why so shocked, Granger? It's not the first time I've taken you to a Muggle establishment," he chuckled.

After giving another stab at friendship, Draco had gone back to calling her by her surname. Hermione missed the intimacy of having him call her by her given name but delighted in the way his polished voice would drawl her surname; something she'd loathed when they were in school but had come to appreciate later on in life.

"No, I know… it's just… it took me by surprise, is all," she shrugged, blushing as she bottled her own potion.

Draco only chuckled and they continued to bottle the potion up in silence. Even so, Hermione felt lighthearted and she and Draco often glanced at each other as they worked, a small smile curving their lips. Once they were finished, he escorted her to the Floo room.

"Well…" she trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

"Granger, wear something pretty," Draco smirked before leaning in and pressing the lightest of kisses on her cheek.

She closed her eyes and delighted in the warmth of his lips, which was all too fleeting. She was intoxicated by his unique scent along with the smells of potions and ingredients they'd used. Hermione hadn't even realized she'd sighed until she felt the smallest of pressures on her other cheek but when she opened her eyes, Draco was simply watching her.

"I will," she whispered before disappearing into the green flames.

When she went in to work on Monday, she was taken aback when Kingsley himself appeared in her office and told her to take the day off on Friday.

_All the more time to get ready for my date with Draco._

"My date with Draco," she said to herself, a smile blooming on her lips.

Once she got out of work, she went to a boutique to find _something pretty_ to wear. She browsed and browsed but nothing caught her attention until she came across _it._ She plucked it out of the rack and stared at it, pursing her lips.

_Okay, it's not what one could call traditionally 'pretty' but… I really like it. And it's in my size too! What luck._

After finding the perfect jewelry to complement her outfit, she paid and made her way home. Once there, she hung it on her doorway and stared at it admiringly.

"I think he's going to like it," she grinned impishly, clapping her hands eagerly.

Fortunately for her, Friday came all too soon.

Hermione slept in, basking in the mid-September sun that filtered in through her window like a cat. She then soaked in the tub, letting the scents of the oils she'd added relax her. After wrapping herself in her favorite midnight blue silk robe, she made her way to her kitchen and prepared breakfast for herself that consisted of waffles, fresh fruit and tea.

She glanced at the clock in her kitchen as she charmed the dishes to wash themselves and was surprised that it was barely noon.

_Well, there is that one book I've been wanting to read but haven't gotten around to it..._

She smiled and made her way to her bookshelf and settling down in her favorite spot in the couch, curling her legs underneath her. A few hours later, she began to feel the stirrings of hunger and settled for a pot of tea and biscuits.

Once it turned five, Hermione decided she better start getting ready lest she arrive late for her date with Draco. She bookmarked the page she'd read last and jumped up, stretching her limbs lazily. Ambling to her room, she slipped on a pair of pretty lacy knickers (_just in case_, Hermione thought as she blushed) and then dressed.

After adding Sleekeazy's to her hair to tame her curls, she brushed her hair to the side and draped it over her shoulder, pinning the back. As she observed her reflection in the mirror, she was pleased to see just how radiant she looked and decided to keep her makeup simple. After swiping on her favorite scarlet lipstick, she combed mascara through her lashes and then put on small gold hoop earrings. She stared at her necklace and then sighed, realizing she should have put it on before her outfit. She hastily undid her top, slipped her necklace on and grinned.

_Oh, I think Draco's going to love this._

After spritzing on her favorite perfume and slipping on a pair of silver open-toed slingback heels, Hermione gave herself one last glance and smirked appreciatively.

She'd ended up buying a white halter jumpsuit with a plunging neck. What she loved most about it, though, was the fact that it had pockets. The gold body chain she'd bought went along with the jumpsuit perfectly; the chain was thin but it shimmered beautifully and in the middle it had a tiny diamond.

_As much as I love how I look, I have a feeling I might get cold. Better use a charm for that. Although I really should carry a light jacket… wouldn't want to get sick. _

After finally deciding on a lightweight wrap, she still used a heating charm and then grabbed her clutch. Hermione Apparated to an alley a street away from the restaurant. As she got closer, felt a tremulous sort of anticipation and took deep breaths as she stood before the doors. She was reaching for the door when she noticed the lack of movement from inside the restaurant and cocked her head. She took a few steps backward and glanced up at the name.

_Yes, this is the place. So why does it look empty? Oh, gods… this better not be a surprise party. I'll wring Draco's neck if it is. He should know I loathe surprises!_

She sucked in a sharp breath and reminded herself of her Gryffindor bravery before letting herself inside. Her deduction had been correct, the restaurant was indeed empty aside from the hostess who was watching her patiently.

The hostess gave Hermione a kind smile as she approached hesitantly and relaxed.

"I'm here for—"

"Yes, I know, miss. Your party is here already," the hostess interrupted, an amused smile on her face.

At the word 'party,' Hermione froze and then felt her heart accelerate.

_No, no, no… that sneaky little ferret! How could he? _

Hermione really had no other choice but to follow the hostess and wrung her hands nervously, awaiting for the moment when everybody would inevitably pop out and surprise her.

_Oh, he certainly fooled me. It would have never occurred to me to gather my friends here in Muggle London. I suppose it is kind of brilliant._

But instead of leading her to a certain sneaky Slytherin, Hermione was led to a table occupied by a couple. She came to a stop, barely registering that the hostess had left and stared at the faces she hadn't looked at in over five years.

"Mum… dad," she breathed out, still stunned.

They gave her a weary smile and all Hermione could do was stand before them, her sight slowly becoming hazy.

"What… what are you doing here?" she questioned shakily. "Not that I'm not glad to see you! But it's just… I hadn't…"

"Hermione, do sit down and we'll explain," her father told her gently, motioning to the lone empty chair.

"But where's…?" she trailed off, looking around the empty restaurant.

"_Hermione_."

She nodded shakily and sunk down into the chair. Just as she'd set her hands in her lap, a crack sounded through the air, causing Hermione's parents to startle.

_Draco! He _was_ here. But why… how?_

Her bewilderment must have shown on her face because her parents turned to each other and held hands.

"Hermione, your young man, Draco, was the one who found us," her mother began.

"Draco? But how…?"

"That's something you'll have to ask him yourself, I think. Needless to say, he found us and after our memories were restored he explained everything to us," her father said.

"Oh, but he was clever about it. He didn't just dump information that was bound to overwhelm on us, he visited us every day and continued his story. That first day, when we were ourselves again, he stated his name and explained why he was there. The next day he told us more of himself, of the unrelenting pressure from his father and how he poisoned his mind from a young age, thus shaping his beliefs. Then it moved to you two being schoolmates, of his envy and how he bullied you. It was difficult to hear, considering we'd never heard anything of the sort from you," her mother said, raising an eyebrow at her, "but we believed him all the same."

Hermione shifted guiltily in her seat. She indeed never told her parents of Draco Malfoy because although he had been a terribly prejudiced snot who often delighted in telling her hurtful things, she didn't want that to affect how her parents viewed the Wizarding World. She'd considered him a rotten apple in a barrel full of shiny ones and let it be.

"Then he told us how although he still disliked you, he couldn't help but grudgingly admire your ambition and slowly, your intellect. Sure, he said you were irritating with the way you flaunted the latter but he said he eventually understood the reason for it even if he hated it then. He told of the ball, where he considered you to be the most beautiful witch in the room and detested himself for his traitorous thoughts. He told that little by little, his feelings towards you shifted. From blind hatred, to dislike and it finally ended on annoyance and confessed that he could never bring himself to feel indifferent about you. That you were (and still are) too much of a spitfire to be ignored," her father chuckled.

Hermione listened to their words, watching their faces raptly.

_Good Godric, _how _I missed them. To think this is Draco's doing… damn it, Hermione. Pay attention to your parents!_

"But then he told us of his father's failure and how he'd become a… what was it? Oh, yes. A Death Eater. Told us of the foolish pride he'd felt upon being branded and of his descent into desperation as the year passed. He told us of his mission, of _his_ subsequent failures and of the threats his mother was under if he weren't to succeed. How little he slept and ate, how he'd become a shadow of his former self…" Hermione's mother trailed off, looking pained. "Of his ultimate failure and how cruelly he was punished for it. Then he told us of his role in the war. How he was the one to watch over the prisoners in their dungeons. How his parents became ghosts of their formidable selves, watching how their house was overrun with monsters. How he was the one blamed and punished when something went wrong."

Hermione tensed suddenly, knowing that the topic her torture surely approached.

"He told us how after witnessing an act so horrifying, he wasn't able to sleep. How that act alone destroyed what beliefs he still held on to. How he couldn't be in the room without hearing the screams and how the blood never washed out of the carpet," Hermione's father shuddered, clasping her mother's hand tighter.

Hermione swallowed thickly and felt an immense gratitude towards Draco in her heart for not revealing to her parents it was her blood that had been spilled on the Manor.

"He went on to talk about the final battle, about his cowardice and of the relief he felt when it was all over. He told us of his life after the war, settling down and being branded as evil even though he'd been cleared of all charges. Of how the solitude did him good and how it helped him reflect. But then he told us about you. How you changed his life and made him want to be a better man. Of the regret he felt and of the envy he felt at seeing you with your then beau. The despair he felt when you became _engaged_," Hermione's mother said, frowning slightly. "But then of the happiness when you showed up at his door, in a wedding dress. The dates you went on, trying to hide his love from you… and then of your confession on his birthday."

Hermione swallowed down her shame, trying not to fidget in her chair at the mention of her broken engagement. But she was brought down back to earth by her mother's last sentence.

"He told us of what he said to you, Hermione. It was all so degrading. I almost slugged him for calling you all those terrible names," Hermione's father scowled.

Her mother patted his arm soothingly and nodded.

"I agree. I almost told him to get out of the house then but he plowed on, telling of us of the devastating regret that settled in his chest. How it wasn't in his place to judge when he himself didn't have a perfect past, how he should have been more understanding. It was easy for me to trust what he said because he was so… straightforward about everything, not once mincing words. His face remained earnest and open and we could see the emotions he felt then in his eyes clearly."

"You believed him?" Hermione asked, biting her lip.

"Should we not have?" her father asked crisply, exchanging glances with her mother. "Did he lie?"

"No! No, that's not it. He didn't lie to you."

"We thought not," her mother shrugged.

"I'm curious… _why_ did you believe him?"

"Because his love for you just... _oozed_ out of him," Hermione's mother smiled. "From his eyes, from the way he spoke to his gestures… he's a man who's in love with our daughter."

Hermione felt her heart swell with love for Draco.

"How did he convince you to come?" she whispered. "I know you probably don't trust me anymore and I can't bring myself to blame you. What I did was despicable, but I wanted to keep you safe."

"Oh, Hermione… it was a breach of our trust, yes, but we will always love you. We hadn't seen our little girl in years and we thought it was time to come home. Happy birthday, sweetheart," his father told her, giving her a smile.

Hermione's chin wobbled and before either of her parents could utter another word, Hermione was out of her chair and throwing herself into their arms. She sobbed as they held her, stiffly at first, but then they held her affectionately.

"I'm so… _so_… sorry," Hermione sobbed. "I thought it was for the best. So many parents of Muggleborn witches and wizards were being murdered and I didn't want you to be next. It was selfish of me. I should have asked. But the more I waited, the more I risked and I didn't want to lose you. Which was what ended up happening, anyway. For five years! I'm so sorry I didn't come for you earlier…"

"Oh, Hermione…"

"I was so scared that it wouldn't work, that the spell had become unreversible after a certain time," Hermione babbled. "To think that my intelligence failed me certainly humbled me."

"We're not going to say it's okay, Hermione, because it isn't. It's going to take a while, but we will trust you again. Like I said, our love for you is infinite. We understand how you thought it might've been the best decision at the time although we wish you would have consulted with us before sending us off into the outback," Hermione's father said to her.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you… having you here with me after so long is more than enough," Hermione sighed, hugging her parents tightly.

"Now… don't you think it's time you went to see a certain blond wizard and thank him?" her mother queried.

Hermione pulled away and looked at her parents, her heart constricting with emotion at having them with her again.

"You were right, your Draco was here," Hermione's father nodded.

"Why did he leave?" Hermione frowned.

"Undoubtedly giving us some time together. Now, we're here, Hermione and we'll always be here for you. But it's time for you to be happy again."

"But I _have_ been happy—"

"Yes, but you want more than friendship, don't you?" her mother asked sagely, arching her eyebrow.

"Well, yes, but if he's not ready…"

"He's more than ready, sweetheart. He told us that _he_ thinks _you _aren't ready. Looks like the two of you need to have another talk," Hermione's father chuckled.

"But you—"

"—will be at home, settling down into our life of being the Grangers once again," Hermione's mother sighed, giving her a smile.

"Are you sure?"

"We're more than sure, Hermione. Go," her mother said, extricating herself gently from Hermione. "Besides, it's be a waste if he didn't get to see you looking so pretty."

Hermione blushed but then nodded and hugged her parents fiercely before giving them a kiss each.

"I love you mum, I love you dad," she smiled at them, pulling away.

"See you, sweetheart."

Hermione didn't hesitate to grab her clutch and headed to the restroom, reaching into her bag for her wand. She concentrated on the grand Manor being on Wiltshire and Apparated, a loud crack echoing in the restroom.

After the discomfort of Apparation, she opened her eyes and found herself before the gates. Just as she was about to send a Patronus to Draco, the front doors of the Manor were flung open. Lo and behold, there he stood and began to run towards her (seemingly forgetting he was a wizard and could easily Apparate), flicking his wand at the gates so they could open for her.

Hermione's heart slammed against her ribs and she broke into a run, disregarding the fact that she was in heels and soon collided into his solid chest.

"Draco! Oh, Draco!" she cried out breathlessly, wrapping her arms around his middle. "You… you… _thank you_."

He hugged her back just as fervently and she felt the pull of Apparation once more.

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," he muttered into the top of her head.

She pulled away and looked into his face; he looked delightfully flushed, his slate eyes gazing at her intently.

"Why did you do it, Draco?" she whispered, biting her lower lip.

His eyes flickered down momentarily to her lips before focusing on her own again.

"Because you missed them," he responded, brushing his thumb along her jaw.

She shuddered and leaned into his touch.

"Thank you so much, Draco," she muttered, her eyes fluttering to a close as she relished his touch.

"You have nothing to thank me for, Hermione," he said, the warmth of his breath fanning across her face.

"You gave me back my parents," she told him firmly, snapping her eyes open and looking at him. "I never thought I'd see them again. But you made the impossible… possible."

"Having a lot of galleons certainly sped up the process, I think," Draco chuckled, never once taking his eyes off Hermione.

"I'm going to pay you back," she promised.

"Hermione, _no_. That's so _gauche_," he snorted softly.

"What else did you do?"

"I... might have had something to do with your friends not making plans with you for your birthday. Plus I might have talked to the Minister into giving you the day off," Draco smirked at her.

"You are impossible."

"But you love it," he quipped cheekily.

Hermione watched him and sighed contentedly at being in his arms once again.

"I do. But more than that... I love _you_, Draco. I love you so much."

He froze, his eyes widening at the fervency in her voice. A pink tinge appeared in his cheeks and Hermione found it to be the most endearing thing ever.

"All this time we've spent together as friends has been lovely, but I've missed _this_. I've missed touching you and feeling close to you. I want to be with you, Draco. I want to be by your side when you're at your happiest and not. I… don't care if we don't get married, but—"

She was stopped by the press of his lips against hers. Hermione didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing her body closer to his and delighted in his groan and in the way his fingers caressed her bare back.

_Oops… I seem to have misplaced my wrap. Oh, well. Can't quite bring myself to care when I'm snogging the most delectable man on earth._

Passion flowed through her veins, burying her fingers in the soft hair at the nape of his neck as she kissed him back as ardently as he kissed her.

"Oh, how I love you, Hermione… I love you so much. I want you with me, forever. Or until you'll have me," he murmured against her lips, pulling away slightly.

"I'll always want you, git," she told him affectionately.

"Good, I plan on keeping things that way," he replied impishly.

Hermione chuckled and brushed the fringe off his forehead tenderly.

"Oh, Merlin… what did I do to deserve you?" he muttered, pressing his forehead against hers. "For the record, I do want to marry you. I think a Spring wedding would be lovely, don't you think? We could even invite your group of Gryffindors if you so desire."

She nuzzled her nose against his and smiled, sliding her hands from the back of his neck to his chest.

"Is that a proposal I'm hearing, Mr. Malfoy?" she teased.

"Oh, darling… you'll _know_ when I propose. You know we Malfoys don't half arse things," he told her pompously.

She laughed, loving how his steady heartbeat felt against the palm of her hand.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy," she said, brushing her lips against his.

"I love you more, Hermione Granger. Have I told you how ravishing you look?" he asked her huskily.

"No, no you have not," she shuddered, nipping his lower lip.

"Well, you do. Almost good enough to eat," he growled, running his hand to her back and gripping her bum.

"Are you offering?" Hermione asked him cheekily.

Draco abruptly pulled away, his eyes a molten silver and broke out into a predatory smile.

"Yes, please."

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**And that's the end. No, really. **

**Did you like it? Was it cliche? I may write an epilogue later on, so keep this story followed if that would be something you're interested in reading.**

**I'd like to thank everybody who's taken the time to read and for those who reviewed, a Sugar Quill for you. Thank you for staying with me until the very end, I appreciate every one of you (even the ones who didn't review). **

**I'd like to pimp my (three chapter *cough*) one-shot called Delayed, featuring Muggle Hermione and Draco who meet at an airport. Think that's something up your alley? Go forth and read. I hope you like it.**

**If anybody's interested in what I'm going to write next, I'm going to tackle the daddy!Draco trope. It won't be as long as this (or at least I hope not). ****Good luck to me, eh?**

**Until next time, keep cool my babies.**


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